All I Have
by Stephair
Summary: This is a classic Jack and Jennifer story dating from early 1991. Jennifer had been attacked by Lawrence Alamain and never told anyone, including Jack. This story begins after she slapped him in the cabin. Steve and Kayla also included Complete.
1. Chapter 1

This is an AU story of Jack & Jennifer from early 1991. Since that was so long ago, I'll provide a brief refresher of what happened before. This story begins immediately after the incident generally known as "the rape-slap" (and easily found on YouTube which I'd highly recommend if you need a refresher of those amazing scenes). Jennifer had been raped by Lawrence, but unable to tell the news to anyone-including Jack. She's been avoiding what is bothering her until one night when Jack is attempting to kiss her, she flashes back to the rape. She slaps Jack and calls him a rapist. Of course, with his history, that label is not easily forgotten or dismissed.

Most important to note, in this alternate universe, Steve is still alive. Steve was injured in the boat explosion and had all those great goodbye scenes, but he was never poisoned through the IV. He recovered and living back at home with Kayla and Stephanie. I love the Jack and Steve dynamic and any Jack story I write will include Steve as well.

Disclaimer: I see a lot of disclaimers on other fanfics disavowing any ownership of the characters, and that applies here too, I guess. However, I'll make this a "swoon disclaimer" instead where I freely acknowledge that nothing that I commit to page will ever match the power and poignancy of a story as portrayed by Matt Ashford, Melissa Reeves, Mary Beth Evans, and Stephen Nichols. Love them! Of course, would love to see all four reunited on screen. I've already posted this story on another website, so I'm just posting the now-completed version. These J&J stories are my first attempts at fanfic so I'd love feedback

Update Jan. 18, 2017: Corrected a bunch of typos and grammatical errors. Not sure if I caught them all, but at least the ones that were most annoying me.

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Jack had been bereft before. Literally and metaphorically, he had been lost at sea, struggling to survive, and anxious to find solid ground beneath. His lineage, his marriage, his political career had all faltered and all proved as stable as quick sand. He thought at last he had found his lighthouse, the fixed point that would guide him to safety as he floated adrift on the sea of troubles.

 _Jennifer._

But Jennifer was gone now. Lost to him forever. That bright flame extinguished. Jack got mad at himself for the tortured, extended, overwrought metaphor as he crumpled the red rose in his hand. He hadn't specified a location for Sheldon to drive to so they sat in the limousine, a block away from her loft.

It was over. There could be no going back. The slap and the label were as final as the violent act itself that had inspired the slap and label.

He had wanted to take her away for a nice relaxing vacation. He'd convinced himself that she was overworked and needed some time away and they could rekindle their magic. Was it really only three hours ago, the mere length of the movie _Dances with Wolves_ , that his entire world had shifted?

Where to go? He had bought into her rosy outlook and unicorn dreams. He knew the truth that they could never work and he had tried to convince her for months all last spring. He had kidnapped her from her wedding to Emilio not only because he couldn't bear to see her marrying someone else, but also because he did not want to see her in a marriage with someone that she considered second best. He had been in that situation. He had been second-best in his marriage to Kayla. It led to disaster and ruination and he did not want that repeated in Jennifer's life or in Emilio's life. Emilio deserved better too. Jack still couldn't believe he was actually dead—less than a week still. Jennifer was still innocent—still free of mistakes. Three years ago, he had been that innocent, that free, that naive until one awful night when he grew up and grew into a monster.

She had been convincing—she had fooled him and had fooled herself too. Jack knew she had truly believed that he was fixable and that Horton-style love could win out against all odds. But the truth was spoken now and could never be undone. So many things in his life could never be undone.

He knew he couldn't go home. His two dads would be waiting for him there. He couldn't go to the office either. His dads might find him there too.

Steve's. They never go there. His dads would never go there. His dads were scared of Steve. He hoped one day they would be wary of Jack too and would finally stay away for good.

Jack tapped on the limousine partition and called to Sheldon to go to his brother's house.

* * *

Jack walked up the long drive way at Steve and Kayla's mansion leaving Sheldon back at the street. He rung the doorbell and nervously tapped his foot. He just needed to see his brother, see himself through his brother's eyes, and he'd start to feel normal again. He would be able to forge a path forward in life from this awful night.

Kayla answered the door though. Jack recoiled, blinking several times. Of course Kayla would be here. Why didn't he think of that contingency? He hadn't been thinking of course.

She looked a little surprised at his reaction, but promised herself to not commit her time to whatever was bothering him. She wanted to spend as little time as possible in Jack's head or wondering about his life. She did a quick check of his appearance. He looked fine—clothes and hair-wise. What was different tonight were his eyes.

"Hi. Do you want to come in?" She stepped to one side of the doorway entrance and gestured him in.

His eyes shadowed over and he shook his head. Coming into their home…just Jack—not as part of group…with Kayla there….at night….NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN. Especially not on this night of all nights.

Jack said nothing, obviously fighting some internal battle, so Kayla continued, decidedly ignoring to address his current state, "Steve's upstairs putting Stephanie to bed. He's in the middle of one of his harp lullabies if you want to go up. It's really endearing."

Jack shook his head, "I-I can't. Could you tell Steve I'm out here on the swing? Please?"

"Sure, I'll go get him," Kayla replied and was glad. She normally didn't mind Jack around Stephanie, but she could tell that tonight was different.

* * *

At the upstairs landing, she could hear Steve on his harmonica intermingled with tonight's lyrics _I love you little sweetness / Absolutely to completeness._ She said another silent blessing that all the obstacles in their past, including Jack and his two dads, and their recent past, which included her murder charge, Stephanie's kidnapping, and the boat explosion. All those sorrows had been put behind them and they were still together as a happy little family. It's all she had ever wanted and was grateful everyday that they could still all be together.

"Jack's outside," Kayla told Steve when he was done with his song.

"Outside? Not downstairs?" Steve wanted to clarify, instantly concerned.

"He wouldn't come in," Kayla replied, letting Stephanie grab her index finger with her tiny fist. "Something brought him here though. Don't know what."

"It's 15 degrees out."

"Go see him. You'll probably have better luck with him than me and I'll probably have better luck than you getting Stephanie to sleep."

"What can I say? You can see it in Lil' Sweetness's eyes how much she loves the blues."

Kayla grabbed a receiving blanket and swatted his butt, "Go on. We Johnson girls are fine up here and you Johnson boys can talk to yourselves about whatever you need."

* * *

Jack sat on Steve's and Kayla's porch swing waiting for his brother, rubbing his hands together trying to warm them in the harsh January cold. He recalled all the other conversations he'd had with them in this spot. With Kayla over a year ago, she was pregnant with Stephanie and feeling forlorn about Steve's marriage to Marina. He had tried to convince her that her marriage was worth fighting for. At the time, he did not allow himself to consider any relationship with Jennifer as a possibility. It couldn't happen yet; he knew he had to help secure Steve's and Kayla's future before he could even consider one for himself.

Six months ago, he sat on this swing with Steve and had told his brother that he and Jennifer were now 'close.' Of course Steve knew that was a euphemism that they had finally made love. It wasn't a casual physical sex thing like it had been with Melissa or all the prostitutes Steve heard about after Jack's marriage to Kayla had imploded. Steve knew well that Johnson men could easily have sex with anybody and everybody until love happened and then meaningless sex was just no longer possible. With Jack's ambiguous admission last summer, Steve knew that Jack had found his soul-mate and had made a lifelong commitment—just like Steve had done with Kayla on a certain roof a few years earlier.

"Jack?" Steve rounded around the corner from the front steps.

Jack turned and looked at him but said nothing for at least a two dozen heartbeats.

"Thanks for seeing me." Jack sounded like a patient thanking a doctor for working him into a busy schedule.

"So what's going on?" After an interminable period of Jack's silence, Steve asked, "Is it Jennifer?" Jack stayed stone-faced and didn't move. Steve pressed further, "Is it Kayla?"

With that Jack turned his head and looked at Steve, again he said nothing and turned his head back, facing forward

"I shouldn't have come and interrupted your evening." Jack looked up at the lit window on the second floor that he knew was Stephanie's nursery. "You deserve all this and I'm glad for you."

Jack felt foolish for coming here. He knew he could never repeat the events in the cabin earlier that evening. What was he thinking coming here? He had wanted to feel Steve's love and know that his support wasn't going anywhere. Steve's love wouldn't be snatched back from him tonight like Jennifer's had. Steve's love wouldn't be taken back or rescinded like Kayla's had been all those years ago on the night that he did become a rapist. Steve's love was proof that Jack had changed that he wasn't merely that rapist anymore, right?

However, Jack knew that he couldn't talk about that night. They had both built a wall around that event and they managed as brothers because they never breached that wall. Even when Jack did it obliquely, Steve still shut him down. The last time they sat on this swing together was last summer when Jack and come to tell him that his relationship with Jennifer had escalated. Jack had tried to defend himself, say that he tried to resist because of… _before_ …(so much heartache in that little word!) and Steve shut him down instantly. Jack knew Steve was right to do that, especially in that moment when little Stephanie had been in his arms. No, he would never deliberately put those images back in Steve's head—the bruises, the roof, Kayla's testimony, Kayla defending herself with a poker. All that must stay unspoken.

"Jack, I can't let you leave. You're looking and acting like the night…the night that Harper…died."

"You mean the night that I killed him."

Steve rolled his eyes. Why was Jack being so difficult tonight, he wondered. "The night he died as you were trying to save me… _and Kayla_."

"I swore I would never get violent again and I did. My promises mean nothing."

Steve's eyes darkened as Jack touched on that nerve once more. "What's going on Jack? This isn't about Harper and I shouldn't have mentioned him."

"I'm sorry I should go. You shouldn't be out here in the cold."

"Let's go to a bar and get a couple of beers and talk."

"I shouldn't have come. I have to go."

"Jack, if you don't start talking, I'm going to call Jennifer."

Jack rounded on him, "Don't you dare!"

Steve loudly exhaled. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," Jack said, sounding resigned and defeated. "I shouldn't have come here tonight. I need to leave."

"Jack, you're my brother and you can count on me. If there's a problem, then we'll fix it—together."

Jack shook his head. "Not about this."

* * *

"So what was that all about," Kayla asked when Steve came back into the house. Stephanie was already fast asleep and while Kayla didn't really want to talk about Jack, she wanted to be there for Steve in every way possible.

"I don't know," Steve shrugged. "He wouldn't say, but you were right. Something's gotten to him."

"Something with Jennifer I'm sure," Kayla predicted. "If he's anything like you, only Jennifer could reach him that deeply, that profoundly."

"He wouldn't say anything. It was weird. He acted embarrassed and ashamed."

"Well, it can't be too bad. The old Jack never acted embarrassed or ashamed about anything," Kayla replied trying to block out the memory of the roof top where Jack and Steve had fought after Steve learned of Kayla's rape. Jack had grabbed her and held her, cowardly, as a shield against whatever Steve would do. Simultaneously, he gloated that he, Jack, 'had made love to her and it was wonderful.' Yes definitely no shame then.

She remembered it was about a year later when Jack came to the riverfront clinic after he had been stabbed and needed her medical care. Then, only then, did she see a flicker of shame and the earliest stages of remorse and trying to make amends. By that fall, when Kayla and Steve were embroiled in the Marina mess, he wore his shame and apology like a hair shirt and only then did she start to feel pity and a slight glimmer of hope that Steve might finally get the long-awaited reconciliation with his baby brother.

"How much you want to get involved is up to you, of course." Kayla said. As long as Jack was decent Jack, she would never stand between these two brothers.

"I should go see Jennifer tomorrow," Steve said. "Not ask straight out, but try to get a read on her."

"Okay, but now let's go upstairs. There's a waiting bath with your name on it," Kayla countered.

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* * *

Jennifer came to Jack's office wanting to talk. Earlier her grandmother had spoken to her and told Jennifer that she had stopped by Jack's office. Jack had told Alice indirectly about Jennifer's accusation. Alice had gone straight to Jennifer to ask her about her conversation with Jack. Jack was hurting, Alice had said, and Jennifer knew she was the cause and desperately wanted to make it right.

"Why are you here? What more can possibly be said?" Jack asked.

"I think we should talk. I think it will help." Jennifer countered, hoping she could get through the thick shield he had reconstructed around his heart. She had done it before; she hoped to do it again.

"Let me guess, you didn't mean to say it..."

"I didn't," Jennifer interrupted hoping to inject all the feeling and truth into her eyes and voice hoping that he would believer her.

"What you meant to call me was a _rap artist_. You think I should take a career in rap music, right? Or you meant to compliment me on my _rapier wit_? Or, I know, _papist_ , like I should be Catholic or something, like the Bradys? Am I right?"

Jennifer shut tight her eyes trying to block out their current reality. The snark was back.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Jack looking down at her left hand, at the diamond ring. It had been given and received with such love and hope.

"You can't wear that anymore. You can't go around letting people like your grandmother believe that there will ever be a wedding."

Jennifer shook her head, what he was suggesting was too final. _Stop this_ , she told herself, _just tell him the truth! Don't let this go on!_

But Jennifer said nothing.

"Please take it off," Jack insisted.

"I can't. If you want it off, then you have to do it," Jennifer replied, daring him, never believing that he would actually do it.

Jack reaches out to her left hand, ready to take the diamond engagement ring back. As soon as their fingers touch, she snatches back her hand, almost surprised at the electricity that passed from him to her. She holds her hand at her side, balled up into a fist to further protect her ring.

"You cannot take this ring from me. I won't let you. You're all I have. We've been through too much. This ring symbolizes too much. You can't just take it!" She continues on, almost in a whisper, "Don't take my ring. Don't take my ring."

Jack closed his eyes, bit his lip, and backed up a step. He certainly wasn't going to force it off her hand.

"Ring or no ring. I can…not marry you. How do you think it will be? For the vows, will you say 'I, Jennifer, take you, rapist'? And me, 'I, rapist, take you, Jennifer'?" He slowly shakes his head back and forth and his next words come out slowly, "Never…going…to…happen."

"Stop it. You know that's not what I think."

"You said it. You finally said your truth. The truth of why you flinch when I touch you, the reason why you preferred to move in with Frankie and not me, the reason why we haven't been together since October. And if we got married, when the minister says, 'You may now kiss the bride' and I kiss you, will you slap me again then?"

"Jack, I admit…I admit now that I am going through something. Please just be patient with me."

"I asked you, begged you even, a hundred times to tell me what was your problem. And you responded, rather snarky and embittered, that you had told me a hundred times that there was no problem. So what is it?"

Jennifer stayed silent, unable to answer.

"Nothing? So I guess we're back where we started. Your problem is that I am a rapist."

"No that's not true." Jennifer wished she could convince him. She knew that her disastrous mistake of saying the worst word at the worst time was killing him. She was wounding him so deeply. She knew it and she hated herself for it, but yet she still could not speak.

"Everyone else in my life has lied to me about one thing or another. Have withheld the truth from me: Jo, Steve,…Kayla…, Harper, Angelica, Melissa, everybody. I'm so sick of being lied to! I'm sick of it! And I thought you were the one person who would never lie to me. I could always count on you to tell me the truth—when I was being a jerk or that I wasn't as much of a jerk as I feared, or whatever. You tell me whatever is your problem right now or you walk out that door. Those are your two choices."

Jennifer felt cornered. She wanted to tell, but she just couldn't bear speaking of it. Not to anyone—not just Jack because of his past, but also Gram, Carly, Frankie, and Melissa. She didn't want to speak of it to anyone. She knew she needed to. As long as this was a secret just between her and Lawrence then the rape would remain as something tying her together with her rapist and apart from the rest of her family. He had kept her physically apart from her family and from Jack while they were in Alamania and he was still keep her emotionally separated from them. He was still imprisoning her, restricting her movements, not letting her move her life forward, not letting her speak her truth. She knew now that Lawrence had raped her not because she had led him on and not because he was thinking of Carly. He hadn't been angry or confused or swept up in an unfortunate misunderstanding fueled by champagne when he forced himself on her. He raped her for money—for the Von Leuschner inheritance. Lawrence had wanted to prevent her from getting an easy annulment by "consummating" their marriage. That was his motivation. It was cold, diabolical, and calculated. And as horrible as Jack had been with Kayla, she knew that Jack had lost control on one horrible night. There truly was no comparison between what Jack had done to Kayla and what Lawrence had done to her. The act—marital rape-may have been the same, but the motivations and the men were very different.

But Jennifer could say none of this to Jack so for weeks she had sputtered out denials and false excuses and given him thousands of words, equivalent to hundreds of column-inches of newsprint, just to avoid the three-word headline: I was raped.

Jack continued, interrupting her thoughts, "I've already lived through one marriage based on lies and deception and I nearly destroyed her. I will never do that again. I will never do that to you…you that I lo— so much."

Jack walked over the door, opened it, and gestured for her to leave. He then walked back to his desk and put his attention back on his work.

Jennifer picked up a glass that sat over by the water pitcher and threw it at the wall where Harper's portrait had once been. She was angry—not at Jack, but at herself and at Lawrence. That bastard had stolen so much from her and was continuing to steal. He had invaded her body and invaded her mind. She needed to push him out before he stole anything more from her.

Jack looked up from his papers and at the shards of glass on the floor by his office door. He couldn't look at her and didn't comment on the broken glass.

Jennifer decided in that moment that she would get herself together and restore her life. She would go home, call a therapist, and start working through her fears so she could get on with her life—a life that she hoped could still include Jack.

* * *

Steve stood outside Jennifer's loft, feeling anxious about butting into Jack's and Jennifer's business, but he was concerned about his brother. The Jack he saw last night was reeling from something awful. Steve knew that Jack always craved his brother's approval and always wanted Steve to think the best of him. Jack wouldn't admit his failings and fears to Steve anymore than he'd publish them in his newspaper.

Steve still found it odd about the curious chain of events that led Jennifer to live here at the loft. He wondered how it was for Jack and for Jack and Jennifer together. Jennifer's couch was almost the same place that Kayla's couch had been. Did Jack sit on Jennifer's couch with her while they were getting romantic? How was he able to battle the ghosts from the past? Jack must have been able to do so, Steve acknowledged to himself. Jack had told Steve about his rooftop proposal to Jennifer—complete with a catered dinner and Shakespeare. Somehow Jack had been able to overwrite the awful memories that had occurred on that roof and in the loft below with better, more loving memories. He still didn't like thinking of Jack that way. Bile unconsciously rose up in his throat thinking of the past. The only way he could really do was by compartmentalizing the two different Jacks—there was Jack and Billy Jack. Steve only wanted to see the Billy Jack that he was now and never wanted to acknowledge the other one.

Steve could hear Jennifer's voice inside. It called him out of his memories. It sounded one-sided like she was on the phone.

"I still can't admit to anyone really, but he did…he did rape me."

"Yes. Jack and I are over."

Steve stumbled backwards towards the elevator. Did he really just hear that? _No!_ That just isn't possible! Thoughts receded at the speed of light. He breathed fast. That couldn't be true. That's not Jack—not anymore! Jennifer loved him and he loved Jennifer. Then Steve remembered that Frankie was the one living with Jennifer. Had Jack gotten jealous of them? Had Jack gotten into a jealous rage again and reacted…like that...again? Oh God, this would destroy everything! Poor Jo! What was Steve thinking—'poor Jo'? Poor Jennifer!

Steve wanted to knock on Jennifer's door and get the truth that instant, but he couldn't do that to her. He knew. Steve knew from firsthand experience, he remembered bitterly, how awful it feels for a rape victim. He would never make Jennifer speak of it with him.

 _Last night? Is that why Jack came over? Jack had raped Jennifer and then came over to see him?_

Steve stopped for a moment to inhale and exhale and try to get hold of his thoughts. _Don't go convicting Jack yet_ , he told himself. _Don't assume anything._

Steve backed into the elevator, slammed shut the metal gate, and slammed the button for the ground floor.

Steve came home and found Kayla cooing over Stephanie as she played on her little activity blanket. He watched them for a long moment, just feeling grateful that fate had allowed them their current happiness. He had been through too much to not feel thankful for these times of much-sought simple happiness and tranquility.

Kayla looked up at Steve and knew from his haunted expression that something was deeply troubling him. "You were going to see Jennifer today. Did you talk with her?" Kayla gently probed.

"No, I didn't speak with her." That wasn't a lie. "But I am worried though. I think Jack might have done something—I'm worried (and I really don't want to believe it and I think he's earned the benefit of the doubt), but anyway I'm worried that the old Jack may be back."

Kayla steeled herself. Jack was responsible for a thousands welts of pain that Kayla and Steve had both endured. "What?" she whispered.

Steve shook his head. "I don't want to say. Not until I know more for sure. I need it confirmed."

"So how do you plan to do that?" Kayla was glad that Steve stayed vague. She didn't want to hear specifics until there was a compelling reason to know. Besides, Stephanie was here—one foot away. She didn't want such bad things spoken around her, even if she couldn't understand any of it.

"I'll ask him. I'll make him tell me." Steve replied with decisive finality.

* * *

Steve went to Jack's office at about 6:00 when he knew that most reporters would be gone. He knew Jack worked hard and kept long hours. Jack would still be at the office—probably the only one left.

Jack wasn't the playboy type who would shirk on his responsibilities simply because he had the money to do so. Jack was too driven and too hungry to make a difference. Steve had always admired his work ethic. Just because Jack was the boss and set for life with money didn't mean that Jack would fritter away his life on fun or dump all his work on other people.

Steve would start out slow and casual, but he would press until he got to the truth. He would not let him leave or dodge round the questions like Jack had done last night. When Steve went into the Spectator offices, he knew he was right. Jack's light was on and the rest of the place was deserted. Perfect.

"Hi Jack," Steve began after he opened the door. Steve saw Jack's face fall when he saw that it was his brother visiting. Jack had wanted to see Steve last night and tonight he definitely didn't.

 _Start off casual, but to the point,_ Steve again told himself. "I got to tell you, Jack. Jo is so excited about planning your wedding. I think she's already picked out her mother-of-the-groom dress."

Jack's eyes narrowed, "Dresses? Really? You did not come here to talk about Jo's dress choices."

"Okay fine. She sent me on a mission to find out the date. So has that been decided?" Steve pressed.

"There won't be a wedding," Jack admitted.

Steve's heart dropped to his feet, but he pressed on. "Jack, no. What happened?"

"The fairytale and fantasy is over and we're back in reality now. I had bought into it. The fairies and rainbows and unicorns and cotton-candy clouds. I really wanted it to be true."

"Jack, that's no answer. What happened and don't give me more of this Tinkerbelle bull. Please, let me help."

"You can't help. It's over. Jennifer and I are over. I'd rather not talk about it."

"I can't do that Jack. I let you leave last night even though I knew something was wrong. So talk straight to me. You love Jennifer and Jennifer loves you."

"Jennifer doesn't love me." Jack said with finality.

That admission surprised Steve. Despite what he had overheard, he was sure that Jennifer loved him. Seeing the path that Jack and Jennifer had taken—from the Spectator, to the quote-unquote kidnapping of her during her wedding to Emilio, to the Loretta, and to Alamania. Through all of it, Steve knew beyond all doubt that Jack loved Jennifer and Jennifer had loved him. It almost made Steve feel nostalgic about the long road and issues that he and Kayla had faced and conquered to be together. He had liked seeing his baby brother on a similar path and meeting and facing those challenges.

"Steve, I don't want to admit this, especially to you of all people, but the truth is: Once a rapist, always a rapist."

Jack's last sentence rang in Steve's ears, replaying over and over and over again. _Once a rapist, always a rapist. Once a rapist, always a rapist. Once a rapist, always a rapist._

Steve felt all the blood rush away from his body and he dropped into chair like he'd been shot. The solid foundation of his beliefs was dropping away beneath him.

 _It is true._

"You did it," Steve said, still not quite believing his words. "It's true." His next words were most damning of all.

"I loved you."

Past tense. Done.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack stood there, not fully comprehending the meaning behind Steve's words. He braced against his desk, repeating them in his mind: _You did it. It's true. I loved you._ Steve looked hurt and lost and Jack was at a loss trying to understand what was bothering him. Steve sat in a chair on the other side of Jack's desk, just staring at his hands, like he was trying to contemplate what to do next. Like Steve was deciding what to do with those hands. Suddenly Jack felt very wary.

When Steve finally looked up, Jack got even more confused and worried. Fire and anger burned in Steve's eyes. He knew those eyes. He had seen those hard, hating eyes often enough, but not for the last year. The last year, his relationship with Steve had grown so much, he felt secure in it, and thought they had been cemented as brothers during Steve's hospital stay after the boat explosion. Jack kept his eyes on Steve, but slowly, deliberately, he opened his center desk drawer.

Steve bolted out of the chair and lunged at Jack, and gave him a strong jab at his jaw. Jack fell backwards from the hit, but was stopped when Steve grabbed his suit lapels from across the desk. "You are sick. You are damaged. I will go to Roman and guarantee that you go to jail this time. You're not getting off this time on a plea bargain. And you are dead to me, you filthy pig."

Jack got even more confused by Steve's words, but they were like daggers to his heart. He had thought he had come so far with Jennifer and with Steve and now he knew that was all an illusion. But Jack knew this wasn't a time for thinking, but for doing. Jack grabbed his gun from his center desk drawer and held it under Steve's chin.

"Back up," Jack ordered. Steve eyed and felt the cool metal barrel on his skin, measured Jack's look and did as he was told. For once, the older brother obeyed his baby brother.

"What are you talking about? Jail? For Kayla?" Jack still couldn't believe Steve was resurrecting this after all that had happened. "You can't send me to jail for Kayla. Double jeopardy applies. Remember?" Snarky Jack was back with Steve too.

"Not for Kayla, you unimaginable bastard—."

"You realize by calling me 'bastard' that you're insulting our mother more than me, right?"

"Shut up!" Steve silenced him. "For Jennifer. For raping Jennifer."

"What? I didn't rape Jennifer. I would never—." He stopped that sentence, but kept his gun squarely pointed at Steve's chest. "We haven't even been together in months, not that that's any of your business. Since before you got injured. Do you think we would've gotten engaged at Christmas if I'd raped her in October?"

"I know what I heard," Steve countered.

"I don't know what you heard," Jack snapped, matching the edge in Steve's voice. "She called _me_ a rapist and we broke up. That's it."

"No. No," Steve wouldn't accept that. "That's not what I heard. She said that _she was raped_. I don't know whatever garbage you're saying, but it can't change those facts."

Jack didn't hear Steve's last sentence.

"Jennifer was raped?" Jack repeated.

Memories swirled in his mind. The myriad of times she had flinched and pulled away. The nightmare she claimed to have when he caught her with Frankie. Her struggling against him the night before when he pulled her into a kiss and it ended with her slapping him. Lawrence suggestively saying, "the other night" when they were in Alamania. Jennifer saying last night, 'I wasn't even talking about you!' and his screaming, heart-rending reply of 'Who were you talking about if you weren't talking about me? Who?'

 _Lawrence._

"Lawrence," Jack repeated aloud. In that moment, he knew. Clarity and truth came completely, sickenly, inexorably in that moment.

Lawrence had done this awful thing to her just like he had done…. Jennifer had endured that hell… This amazing woman he loved with his whole being had gone through something horrific and she couldn't even tell him because he was also this monstrous….

Jack couldn't finish his thought. He dropped the gun on the desk and ran to the side door that had his private bathroom. He just barely made it, before he retched into the toilet.

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Steve stood there for a moment; he had seen the horror plainly in his brother's eyes. Jack had named Lawrence. Steve saw the truth too in that moment. It wasn't Jack. Jennifer had been raped, but not by Jack and he felt guilt-stricken and shamed to his core that he had ever thought otherwise. He had certainly betrayed his brother in thought and somewhat in word and deed. Steve struggled to understand everything that happened. Jennifer hadn't told Jack. He could understand that. Kayla had trouble telling Steve and they had nothing like Jack's history. Oh god, this is going to be so tough on both of them and they looked so happy at Christmas. Did it happen since or was Jennifer covering it up? Probably that. It probably happened in Alamania when she was under Lawrence's control. It's the only reason he could think of that Jennifer hadn't immediately accepted Jack's rooftop proposal.

But what about the 'Once a rapist, always a rapist' comment that Jack made? He vaguely recalled that Jack had just said something like that Jennifer had called him, Jack, a rapist. It was a few moments ago, but so much was happening and Steve had been feeling so much at once: anger, betrayal, the overwhelming need for justice and vigilantism. And now that's all turned, flipped on its head, and Steve felt dizzy from all the fast moving circumstances and shifting changes in fortune. In Steve's mind, in the few moments of this meeting thus far, Jack went from being Steve's beloved brother to a vile serial rapist and now a hurting, vomiting brother. A brother that he could not abandon.

Steve stepped to the desk and picked up Jack's gun. Now having a chance to properly examine it, he gave a small smile (the only one he would get that evening) and pulled the trigger. Out squirted water. From a distance it did look real. Only Jack would threaten someone with a water pistol. He walked over to the small table with a water pitcher, poured a glass and brought it into the bathroom for his brother.

Jack was sitting on the floor of the bathroom. Obviously heartbroken and trying to fend off another wave of nausea. Steve offered him the glass of water to rinse his mouth and put his arms around his shoulders. Jack flinched and shoved him off and Steve gave him his space.

"I'm sorry," Steve offered. So much was covered in that apology. For accusing him, for hitting him, for Jack having to endure this nightmare at all. Steve knew what Jack was feeling all too well. He would have to relive all that tonight with Jack and it was going to be tough—it was going to be damn tough to relive it and not give in to the old anger—but he would not abandon his brother tonight. He had promised his baby brother that he would always stand beside him and if that meant sitting beside him and a toilet on the tile floor of his office bathroom and witness Jack's hell and relive his own memories of learning of Kayla's hell, then so be it. Steve would control his anger about the past tonight. He had failed his baby brother enough for one day.

"I can't believe this happened to her. She's so idealistic—always believing the best in people. That was taken from her. And in this way. This worst way possible. God, Steve, she was a virgin with me." Steve was surprised to hear that last bit; he had assumed that Jennifer had slept with Frankie or Emilio. She was engaged to Emilio even. Steve shook off that speculation. It was irrelevant at this point.

"That's why we waited so long in the first place. Me and who I am with her and who she is. How could I not see? How could I not know? She flinched when I touched her, she turned to Frankie, she acted so skittish around Lawrence, she didn't want to go away with me this weekend. This has been going on for weeks, months even and she couldn't tell me. She couldn't get any help of all because of me, because of what I am."

Steve fought an inner battle with himself. How much should he tell about how it had been for himself and Kayla in the aftermath of her rape. How much could he reveal before it was a betrayal of Kayla's privacy?

"And Lawrence," Jack continued as he sipped the water Steve had offered. "I should have seen what he was. I should have recognized. I should have known. A dog knows its own, right?" Jack tried to push himself up. "I have to get out of here."

"No you don't. You're going to stay here with me and you and I will talk this out. I'll stay here all night with you if you want."

"I can't stay."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do Steve!"

 _I don't know what I'm going to do Kayla!_ Steve remembered yelling to Kayla on the awful morning he learned about her rape. He had hated Jack and wanted to kill him that day. The old Jack that he despised, Steve reminded himself. And here sat new Jack, Billy Jack, the brother he loved. Steve had always compartmentalized the old Jack and Billy Jack in his mind. Could never mix the two. That's why he never wanted to discuss the awful history with his brother because he just didn't want to deal with the reality that these two persons were one. And now tonight he had to. He couldn't leave his brother now, especially with the accusations he had hurled and blood still showing on Jack's lip from when he had hit him earlier.

"To see Jennifer?" Steve asked. "You can't. Not until you've calmed down enough to know that when you talk to her, that you talk about her. This is about her and her pain—it's not about you. I know— _I know_ —," giving more intensity than he had intended, "what you are going through, but I promise that it's nothing compared to what Jennifer is going through." Jack shook his head, indicating he wouldn't go to Jennifer's place.

"Then where. To see Lawrence? He is cold and calculating and so must you be. If you go now when you're distraught and not thinking then you will get hurt—badly and I won't let you."

Jack harrumphed. "Don't worry. I'm not going to go toss him off a roof or something. I swore to myself that I'd never be violent again—unless it's in defense of someone I care about. Even then, I feel just god-awful. But that's the only way I could go on with my life after—after everything that happened. I'm like an alcoholic who can never take another drink. I can never allow myself to indulge in that part of myself. Lawrence is lucky that I am forever bound to not touch him. He has nothing to worry about from me—physically. I'll try to ruin him, sure, but my justice will not come with my fists."

Steve thought back to all the times that he had gotten in Jack's face or done the lapel-grabbing move while Jack just stood there and never defended himself. Jack never gave anything back. Steve tried to provoke him many times back then and the more that Jack just stood there, the harder that Steve tried. He felt ashamed once more that he had considered Jack cowardly or weak in those moments when he was really fighting to maintain control of his own version of sobriety.

"Jack," Steve started slowly, "you can't assume that Jennifer pulled away because of your past." Could Steve speak of his experience with Kayla? How much could he say before it was a betrayal of Kayla's privacy? He had never discussed that incredibly intimate conversation between Kayla and him with anyone—not even Marcus or Jo. How could he give voice to that awful day when he discovered Kayla's bruises and she had admitted all. And to Jack of all people? Normally, he never would. He would never consider it, but this wasn't a normal circumstance. His brother Jack in agony. Steve would continue on he decided. Jack was drowning.

"Kayla," Steve started. At the sound of Kayla's name, Jack winced and squeezed his eyes tight shut. His body stayed rigid, almost suspended in time. "Kayla," Steve began again, "didn't choose to tell me when she did. She avoided it for as long as possible. It had been almost a week. It probably would've been longer if it had been her choice." Steve stopped and loudly exhaled, debating his next sentence. "She only told me when she did because she felt cornered; I insisted knowing everything once I saw…the bruises."

"Oh God," Jack turned away.

"I know the past isn't pretty. This is damn tough for me too, but I owe you…I mean, I _want_ to be here for you. Afterwards, she didn't want me to hold her; she wanted to talk to her therapist instead of me. It was a long time before she was ready for…" Steve stopped pursuing that train of thought. He hoped he said enough to get his point across to Jack, but not too much that he'd violated his wife's privacy. If Steve spoke of it again, he would speak only of his own feelings and how he had felt. "Anyway, Jennifer not telling you the truth, shying away from you happens in most, if not all, relationships affected by rape. Jennifer does love you. I swear to you that I can avow to that truth. I doubt she would be very different if her boyfriend was anyone else. Hear me. Hear me on this one. Her actions and reactions are more likely because you are, simply, a man and not because you are a man who has raped."

Jack was very still and didn't say anything in response, but Steve knew he had his brother's attention and was listening, Tepidly, Steve trudged forward, "I know what you're going through right now."

Jack turned back round to him. "You shouldn't. God, you shouldn't know any of this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Steve. I apologized to Kayla, but I've never apologized to you. I am amazed you can be here at all with me. I doubt I will ever feel anything but hatred for Lawrence, ever!"

"You're right, I shouldn't know. It should never have happened. But..it..did. Now all we can do is move forward with the current hand that we're dealt. Like I was saying, I know how you are feeling, but that day was one of the toughest of my life. I love that woman more than my own life and I had wanted to protect Kayla from all of life's pain. I couldn't protect her and I had failed her. I was drunk singing with Marcus on the night after the election and being all stupid and foolish while Kayla was enduring hell. When I learned the truth, my heart was aching for her. I cried from frustration, from knowing that this wonderful idealistic person was traveling a very dark road. A road that I could try to walk beside her, but I could not carry her, I could not deviate her off that dark path, I could not clear the way before her. The best thing I could do—the only thing I could do, is continue on beside her. And obviously, that's what you have to do now—with Jennifer."

Jack's hands were balled up into fists in frustration. "Steve, I love Jennifer. It took me forever to say it—a whole year after I first knew it. She's amazing. She's vivacious, idealistic, genuine, and goodhearted. She challenges me and inspires me like no other—ever. Just knowing that she went through that hell—that something this awful happened to her. I, too, wanted to spare her from all the bad things in life. Just imagining what she went through. I wish I could block it all from my mind. The horror of the dawning realization that this violent violation was going to occur, the struggle to keep covered as he rips the clothes from her body, the terrified look like a wounded animal as his hands take their free reign, turning her eyes away from him so that she can deny him that one tiny bit of knowledge, the nausea and the whimper as he penetrates and steals what should only ever be given.

"STOP."

A knife-edged sharpness ran through Steve's command. The iron-willed tone called Jack out of his spell. Fear overtook Jack as he realized what he had done. What he had said. He had spoken about the actual rape and his memories of Kayla under the aegis of Jennifer's rape. Steve knew it and Jack was deeply shamed.

"God, I'm sorry," Jack said immediately. "I should never speak of her in that context. Ever."

"Damn straight. Don't you ever speak like that again."

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Steve and Jack stayed silent for a while. Each lost in their thoughts of everything that had happened three years prior and in the last three months and the last three minutes. Neither felt comfortable bridging the chasm that Jack had just created. Ultimately, Steve, remembering all the awful things he had said earlier that evening, decided to just let it go.

Jack brought his hands to his face, covering them, biting his lip and trying to ward off the tears. Jack was not a crier—that's another thing he envied about Steve. He never allowed himself that release. Harper had taught him to bite his lip when he felt like crying and to focus on the pain of the bitten lip. He was good at it too—throughout all the slings and arrows of his life, where were too many to count at this moment, he had reacted with anger, stone-cold silence, or sullenness, but he had never cried. He was sure that he never would either.

Palms flat on the tile floor, Jack pushed himself up and rose to his feet. He stepped past Steve and went to the sink. Steve offered out his hand which Jack waved off. "I'm okay. I just need some water."

Jack gripped the edge of the sink for a few seconds before he swung on the faucet. He splashed some on his face. The water felt cold and slightly jolted him out of his melancholy. Water always seemed to be so essential, so necessary to wash away life's horrors. He remembered Kayla had run to the shower after the rape and stayed there a long time—trying to wash him and his touch away, he supposed. Had Jennifer done the same thing? Ran to the shower after Lawrence had…. He was trying now to wash everything away too right now, but of course he knew how ridiculous was the whole notion. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He saw the split lip and the bruise on his jaw. He had forgotten Steve's words, accusations, and the hit when the tidal wave of Jennifer's truth was revealed.

He put his hand up to the busted lip and could see with his peripheral vision that Steve went pale and suddenly looked guilty.

"You hit me," Jack offered. It was said more in disbelief than as accusation. "You'd thought it was me. That's what you came here for." That whole ugly part of the evening was flooding back into Jack's mind now.

"Yes, yes, and yes." Steve replied, remorse plain on his face. "I didn't want to believe it, but from what I overheard and how you acted last night…"

"You said you'd see me sent to jail. That I was dead to you. Maybe I shouldn't expect anything different. I mean it is me, smiling Jack, the used car salesman who would act like your best friend, best man, or best brother and screw you when your defenses were down."

"I have no defense. I screwed up royally. I took what was going to be an awful situation for you and made it worse. But I am here—with you. Now. Despite everything. I hope that counts for something."

Jack stayed silent, trying to decide how to respond. He needed his brother definitely, but did he still want him here?

"I'm not perfect," Steve continued when Jack didn't answer. "I know…I know that you've looked up to me….recently, of course. And I really am glad to be your big brother, but this issue, this…thing…you're dealing with right now, it's a real touchstone for me. Still. Can you accept that and overlook the moments I lost faith?" Thinking of Jack's colossal, almost unforgivable blunder moments earlier, Steve added, "And I'll overlook other thoughtless statements."

Jack looked over at Steve, measuring him. Of course, he'd forgive him. _How could he not?_ Both Steve and Kayla had lifetime 'Get forgiven for anything and everything for free' cards from Jack. However, it was just one more bit of proof that Jack still was exactly what Jennifer had named him. Steve had been convinced that Jack was capable of raping Jennifer. How could he possibly be the one to help her move on with her life? How could she possibly recover from being raped while being with someone capable of that very act?

"Besides, I know that you're not the same person anymore, Jack. You would never react now like you did three years ago. You have proven it."

"Yeah?" Jack scoffed, "when did I do that?"

"When you did not react about Jennifer and Franklin. She asked _Franklin_ to move in. Franklin told me you caught them in some questionable situations. I'm sure you wondered about them, didn't you?"

"Yes, but.."

"But nothing, did you use their relationship as a trigger to get violent?"

"No."

"Did you try to hurt Franklin?"

"No."

"Did you try to hurt Jennifer?"

"No."

"So don't you see? You're different so your reactions are different too."

Jack stayed silent a few moments, debating in his mind over Steve's assertions. "How did you find out?" Jack was genuinely curious; in retrospect, he had seen so many indicators but didn't (or couldn't) put all the pieces together. Some investigative reporter I am, Jack thought ruefully, always on the job, always in journalist mode.

"By accident, really," Steve answered. "I went to the loft to see Jennifer. I wasn't going to say anything explicit about last night when you came over of course, but I just wanted to see how she was."

"To see if I had hurt her?" Jack prodded.

"No, of course not. Just to make sure that things were okay between you. I remember well how I looked and felt when Kayla and I were on the outs and that's how you looked last night. That's all."

"And she told you what?" Jack was getting pissed at having to drag the answers out of Steve. It was all too familiar of his recent talks with Jennifer.

"Nothing. I was outside the door and heard her on the phone. I heard her say 'I was raped' and then in answer to some question that you two were through."

"That's it? You never talked to her?"

Steve shook his head, "So that coupled with your unexplained behavior last night and then that thing you said tonight, I just assumed the worst. What did you mean by that anyway?"

Jack walked back into his office from the bathroom and dropped into his chair. He stared up, facing the ceiling. "Jennifer, for reasons that were unknown to me, did not want to be…close…in any fashion. If we were watching a video and our hands happened to touch in the popcorn bowl, she'd snatch her hand back. Things like that—weird, unexplained things, and yet would say everything was fine. I had to believe her. She had never lied to me. I knew I could trust her so I had to take her at her word."

Jack grabbed a red marking pencil and started nervously tapping it. "I— This part is hard, Steve."

"It's okay. Go on."

"So last night, I arranged to get a suitcase with some of her things and cleared it with her boss, and arranged to go away to a cabin for a few days. I wasn't trying to push her or test her, but I guess on some level, I did want her to demonstrate that everything was okay as she said. That she wasn't telling me one thing and doing something else with Francois or whoever…behind my back." Jack looked up at Steve; they were dancing perilously close to those long buried memories of Jack's marriage with Kayla.

Steve read that in an instant and shifted in his chair, uncomfortably. All the walls around forbidden subjects were crashing down tonight. Everything about the past and present, old Jack and current Jack, Jack's marriage to Kayla and his future marriage to Jennifer, Kayla's rape and Jennifer's rape, smiley Jack and Billy Jack they were all colliding tonight. Steve had to let go of all his old defense mechanisms that had shut down any hint of discussing the past. He wanted to leave that old Jack, smiley Jack, as though dead like Duke or Harper. And the person who sat before him was his real baby brother who had finally come home. However, that was just a fanciful conceit. The truth was he couldn't pretend that the brother sitting before him now hadn't been guilty of all those awful crimes in the past. And they ultimately, finally did need to deal with the past and with each other.

That whole disastrous marriage idea he had about saving his brother's life by 'offering up' Kayla like she was some Aztec sacrifice to the gods where the priests rip out the hearts still shamed him. In the end, he had managed scarring his brother and likely sullying all of Jack's future relationships so that they would be seen through the lens of distrust and possible lies.

"Anyway, we arrive at the cabin and I could tell she was supremely uncomfortable and all the while saying there wasn't a problem. I wanted a response, so I swept her into my arms and started kissing her. I could feel the pressure against my chest from her hands, but I pressed on anyway."

Jack noticed that Steve suddenly grew very still. "She pushed me away. Slapped me hard and said 'Don't touch me, you rapist.'"

Jack let that sit in the room for several moments before continuing on. "Obviously everything changed in that instant. My words went sharp and my heart went to steel. She was immediately horrified and said she didn't mean it, but the words were said. She sputtered out some weak, almost laughable, explanations about why she said it."

"You do realize—now—that she wasn't talking about you, right?" Steve offered, hoping it would help. "I'm sure that your kiss brought on a flashback and she unwittingly, unwillingly, got swept back to what had happened to her."

"Maybe, but I don't think that matters now," Jack shrugged, resigned, ever the skeptic, and determined to always believe the worst-case scenario.

"Why ever not? She wasn't talking about you! I'm sure of that as I'm sure of you," Steve winced slightly, remembering his words earlier that evening. "Truly."

"Steve, she knows what it's like now. Maybe she could, well not disregard it, but maybe she could not fully recognize how ugly rape is…until now. Now that she knows that, I'm not the guy she should want to help her get over it. She's not ever going to want to make love to a rapist after being raped herself. She wouldn't want some other rapist to be the father of her daughter. It's like making a firefighter out of an arsonist or a cop out of a criminal."

Steve countered, "Well guess what. I was a criminal and now I'm a cop. Any objections?"

Jack shook his head.

Steve leaned forward in his chair, hoping to offer up some genuine hope. "You and Jennifer will work through this. Jennifer will get beyond this. Just like Adrienne. Just like Kayla. It may take some time, months even. If this happened at Lawrence's villa then I know that was months ago, but it appears that she hasn't been dealing with the rape, but buried it instead. And believe me, each day that it stayed buried was a day lost from healing. But you know now and you can _and you will_ help her. Jennifer is a strong woman—I know that just from seeing the way she stands up _to_ you and _for_ you. She's just kept herself isolated. However, she's not a broken woman and you two will get through this just like you've gotten past everything else. I know that—not just because you're my brother but because I've seen what you are capable of accomplishing and conquering. Believe that. Understand that. Know that.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack and Steve sat in the Spectator office on opposite sides of Jack's desk for several minutes, each in their own thoughts. Jack genuinely wanted to buy into Steve's optimism and confidence about his future with Jennifer. Last fall, after Harper's death, he had given into despair, which led to his breakup with Jennifer and her getting involved with Lawrence in the first place.

But, despite that little tiny nugget of hope that he felt, his innate sense of practicality and realism, instilled by growing up in the political arena and honed by his time in journalism, told him otherwise. He had learned growing up in Washington that you only pick the battles that you could win. As the boss at the Spectator, he knew that you only assigned out the articles that would create a good story. You just don't waste your time fighting a losing battle or pursuing an unpublishable story.

 _So Jennifer where do we go from here?_

Jack thought back to those days in the villa when Jennifer was held prisoner and completely at Lawrence's (lack of) mercy. He could have hurt her several times, repeatedly, gotten his henchmen to join in. The possibilities of the extent of his cruelty were endless. Jack started feeling sick again thinking of all the ways that Lawrence could have violated her. Jack had been powerless to stop him.

Jennifer never revealed any of her pain. She had kept it all bottled up. So much she felt was necessary to remain unsaid. Until it just exploded last night at the cabin and she had said the worst thing and the wrong thing to Jack. And that whole time since they had returned home—what did he say? How did he react? He acted selfishly he told himself and he had promised in the Embassy in New York that he never would again. And yet, he did it again. He was so desperate that the past not repeat itself that he went looking for false analogies, false comparisons, false relationships between Jennifer and Francois just as there had been between Steve and Kayla.

Jack looked down at his left hand and imagined himself as he had been, then looked at his right hand and imagined Lawrence as he was now. They both had excellent educations, training in the elitist hobbies such as fencing, sailing, and polo. They both had the veneer of sophistication and of being civilized. And yet they were both entitled, overly indulged, self-absorbed people. He had held Kayla against her will in the loft just as Lawrence had held Jennifer. Looking back and forth between his left and right hand, he saw them as mirror images and likewise projected Lawrence back onto himself.

In that moment, Jack felt he had to be tough on himself. He _had_ to equate himself with Lawrence because anything less would be delusion. He would merely be denying and equivocating how bad he had really been. Seeing Lawrence now, seeing that man's actions now as a mirror for how he had been, he felt anew all the pain and anguish he had caused. The pain he was feeling now was similar to the pain he had caused to Steve then. Knowing now, the depth and the extent of the pain, he was amazed again that Steve and Kayla had ever forgiven him.

Jack leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk and burying his face in his hands.

Seeing the change, Steve asked, "What's going down here, man?"

Jack glances up looking forlorn and emotionally spent, "Me. I'm thinking of how I was back then—I wasn't too terribly different than Lawrence. Not enough to be really significant. I remember how I was back then. I see myself. I remember everything I said and did and what I was thinking and feeling at the time, but still, looking back, it just doesn't feel like me. I was sadistic and cruel."

Steve nodded, "Yes you were." Jack rolled his eyes. "You were," Steve continued, "I can say that in one breath and call you my little brother in the next. I am able to do that."

"This is something I've never really admitted to myself until tonight. And you may hate me all over again."

Steve got up and paced the room. This evening had been testing him greatly and he felt like he was getting kicked all over creation. Everything about the past, about Kayla was being laid bare tonight between them.

"That night of the election, after I saw the pictures and knew the truth, I followed you and Kayla on the docks and saw you together. You two were laughing and joking about which one of you would have to be the one to tell me. I felt like such a fool and it only made me angrier at both of you."

Steve stopped pacing and looked at Jack, stunned. He remembered having that conversation when both he and Kayla were giddy about finally being able to get back together. However, they had laughed about who would tell Jack and of course, who would break Jack's heart, 'I'm not going to tell, you tell him' Steve recalled them saying, the words replaying over in his head.

"Oh God Jack. I didn't know. We didn't mean it like that. You know me now."

"I know. But that evening, it wasn't planned. When we into the loft that night, I swear I didn't plan that. But in that moment, in that moment when everything _switched_ , I didn't want to hurt Kayla, but I wanted to give you some payback for sleeping with my wife. I was too cowardly to do it directly. I could only hurt you by paying people to beat you up and," Jack paused, not sure if should complete this sentence, but all truths were being spoken tonight, "and I could only hurt you through Kayla."

Jack looked down at his hands—he could not look up at Steve after making that admission.

Steve stood there frozen for a minute, processing what Jack was telling him. Steve stared at Jack, his voice icy, "Look at me," Jack looked up and saw his fiery glare to match his icy voice. "Are you telling me that one of your goals when you forced Kayla down on that couch, forced yourself on top of her, and forced her into sex with you, was to get revenge on me?"

Jack cringed; he'd pushed the honesty too far. He shouldn't have said that to Steve. Looking at his brother, hearing his words and his voice, he worried that he could feel their relationship slipping away. He had started this train of thought; he had to see it through to the end and try to salvage something from this disaster and pull them back from the brink.

"It's tough now all these years later, to fully examine and to know what the conscious and subconscious motivations at that moment were. I've given it a lot of thought; believe me, a _lot_ of thought. It was my intention; you were in that room too."

Steve got even more upset and hit the wall where Harper's portrait had been. The same spot that Jennifer had thrown a glass at earlier that day. Jack half-wondered if Harper's ghost was affecting others as much as him.

Steve paced back and forth in the office, but he didn't leave. "Steve…" Jack began.

"Shut up," Steve ordered. Every so often, he'd stop pacing turn to look at Jack, get angry and then start pacing again. Eventually, he leaned up against a wall, looking up at the ceiling. He let out a long breath and then came and sat back down in his chair in front of the desk.

"Steve…" Jack began tentatively, "If you want to go..."

Steve crinkled up his nose. "If I wanted to go, I'd go, I wouldn't need your damn permission."

Jack put up his hand to concede the point, "Of course."

"I'm not walking out on you," Steve continued. "I promised I'd see you through this thing tonight and I meant it, regardless of whatever new garbage you wanted to dump on me."

"You know, it's getting late and those initial moments when I learned the truth. Whew, tsunami, but I'm better now, I've adjusted to this new reality." Jack rose to his feet, but stayed behind his desk. "We should just call it a night because I'm spending all this time just remembering how much like Lawrence I was and I would just rather not think…"

Steve put his hand on Jack's shoulder to keep him in place. "I have something more to say and you're going to shut up and you're going to listen. It's important. You got me?"

"Okay," Jack agreed.

"For most of my life, you haven't known me. I doubt you really know me now. If you did, you wouldn't say half of the stupid crap you say about me," Steve said, his hands no longer on Jack.

But now Jack was confused.

"The truth is, I meant what I said earlier. I was a criminal."

Jack scoffed, "Yeah right, I really wouldn't describe pool hustling or roughing up some people who deserved it as major criminal behavior. Definitely not on my level."

Steve crossed his arms, "Well, it wasn't the same, but I was cruel and I was sadistic." Jack was surprised at that statement.

Steve went on, "I know you've got me up on some damn pedestal, but I don't belong there. You want to know what I did to Hope?"

"You and Hope were friends."

"Yeah, later on. She forgave me. Do you want to know what I did?"

Jack's eyes got big, he wasn't quite sure what Steve was about to confess to doing.

"I hated Bo. Loathed Bo. Over a woman. Over Bo giving me this damn pirate look. Stupid, right? Getting that crazy over a woman that wasn't Kayla. So, you know what I did? I kidnapped Hope. I scared her. I put her through this psychological torture."

"What?"

"Yeah. I did that. I ain't no saint. To get revenge on Bo, I put Hope through hell. I threatened to drip acid on her face as a way to get at Bo. Hope didn't do anything against me—I used her, I hurt her to get at Bo. I took a job to mess with a woman in Cleveland and you know why I took the job—because I found out it was Bo's sister. That's how I met Kayla. I'm not the best example, if I were to be judged only by that part of my past, huh?"

Jack sat there, stunned. He had never known any of this.

"Obviously, I didn't do the crap you did, but I turned my life around. I got forgiveness from Bo and Hope. Kayla taught me everything that I know about love and she helped me turn my life around. With everything she did for me, she's earned my lifelong love and devotion; we are forever bound. I vowed that after all the bad stuff that I did, that I would make sure that nothing else would ever harm her or touch her _ever_. She pulled me out of the pit of hell—a sentiment that you can probably agree with and ascribe towards Jennifer. Your past mistakes don't negate and they don't invalidate the person you are _today_ and the love you feel _today_ for Jennifer."

Jack sat back in his chair, stunned by all of his brother's revelations. "Steve, I don't know what to think. I had no idea."

Steve shrugged it off, "Well when you first met me, you already had me pegged as a gutter rat. Why would I confirm that?"

"Guess you wouldn't," Jack paused, looked around, and checked his watch. "Steve, you've been here with me for hours. You stood by while I spilled my guts literally and figuratively. I really do need to get out of here now. I need some air and you've missed Stephanie's bedtime."

"Yeah, I think we both need some time to decompress from tonight. But you know, there's nowhere else I would've preferred to be."

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It wasn't obscenely late, but it was late, about 10:30, when Jack landed on Jennifer's doorstep. He wasn't sure what he would say, but he wanted to see her tonight and try to undo some of the awful things he had said earlier that day and last night.

He knocked on the door and Frankie answered. He immediately stepped to one side and let Jack through. "Jennifer's asleep already, but you're welcome here of course."

Jack nodded. He had thought Frankie was his competition—that Jennifer was somehow flirting with the idea of rekindling that old love with him. He knew now, deeply humbled, that was the last thing Jennifer wanted. She didn't want to make love to anyone and that's why she wanted Frankie here. Because for Jennifer, Frankie was safe and platonic. In her mind, there was no worry or pressure of anything sexual ever happening between them.

"I'd like to go up and see her, even if she's sleeping. I won't wake her."

Frankie gestured upstairs indicating he had no problem with it and wouldn't stand in Jack's way. "Just so you know," Frankie began, "She sleeps with a light on these days. Don't turn it off. I did that once when I thought she'd left it on accidentally. Thirty minutes later, I could hear her screaming from some nightmare."

Jack lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "So anyway," Frankie continued, "Don't turn off her lights."

"Okay," Jack agreed. "Francois, tell me. Did Jennifer ever tell you what has been bothering her?"

"Why?" Frankie asked, instantly on guard.

"I'm not asking you for any specifics or to betray any confidences, I just wanted to know if she had you to talk to. That's all." Jack replied.

"No, she never told me," Frankie replied.

"Okay," Jack said. He actually wished that she had confided in him; then he felt amazed in how much his outlook and circumstances had shifted. He knew from speaking with Jennifer's grandmother, Mrs. Horton, that morning that she hadn't confided in her. Frankie just said that she hadn't spoken with him either. That only left Carly and Melissa. He felt sure that she wouldn't talk to Carly—she had been in a relationship with that Alamaniac and had consensual sex with the man. Best friend or not, that's not a very conducive circumstance to saying that Carly's ex-lover had raped her. That only left Melissa and Jack doubted she had spoken to her. Melissa had too much going on with Emilio and at Christmas, Jack didn't catch the slightest whiff of a shared secret between Jennifer and Melissa. That basically left nobody. No friends that Jennifer had confided in. No one to help her all these weeks since the villa. Jennifer had kept herself emotionally isolated since they had returned to Salem as she had been physically isolated in Alamania.

Jack ascended the stairs and went into Jennifer's bedroom. He knew he was uninvited and she may not like to wake up and find him here, but just for tonight, he wanted to sit here and watch over her and make sure that no nightmares came to her. He saw her sleeping so peacefully, her lustrous blond hair spread across her pillow and right cheek. She occasionally made these sweet sounding sighs. His heart swelled with love for her. If he could have just the tiniest measure of hope for them—well, that would be everything.

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Two hours later, Steve was back at home and sitting on a couch in the living room with just one table lamp. He felt completely spent after the evening's revelations. It had been such a trying emotional rollercoaster for both his brother and him. He had sat here nearly in the dark for a long time just trying to process it all. Wishing he had done some things differently and yet still glad that he had held himself together. As difficult as it was, he had stayed there with his brother for as long as Jack had needed him. Perhaps, Steve told himself that it was even better this way—that Jack had found out from him and not from Jennifer. This way gave Jack the opportunity to quell his instinct to run. When Jack finally did speak of this with Jennifer, he would be in a much better frame of mind and able to be a much better support for her.

He heard Kayla padding down the stairs in her slippers. "You're back," she said when she reached the couch. "Did you speak to Jack?"

Steve nodded. Kayla sat down beside him and put her arm around his back. "Did he… Is he guilty of what you were worried about?"

Steve shook his head. "No. He didn't do anything wrong. But tonight was not easy and actually, I was wrong. Before I realized the truth, I hit him and accused him."

"Would you like to talk about it?" She knew how much Jack meant to Steve and for his sake, she was willing to be fully invested. She knew Steve felt free to be a brother to Jack, but she wanted him to know that he didn't have to wall that relationship off from her the rest of their lives.

Steve looked at Kayla and remembered everything that had been discussed that night. "No. You don't want to hear about this."

Kayla picked up his hand. "Steve, I consider myself far more your wife than his victim. Please, talk to me."

Steve looked into her eyes and reached up to cup her cheek with his palm. "God, I love you." Steve stopped to exhale. "Jennifer was raped."

Kayla grew very still. "You thought it was Jack?"

Steve shook his head. "I don't know what I was thinking, truly. He didn't even know about the rape until I told him. Then to see the heartache play out with him. It was awful." Steve dropped his hands back to his lap. "It brought back so many painful memories. And with the memories came a lot of anger. Anger that I had to do my very best to set aside so that I could be there…for him…in the present."

"How is Jennifer?" Kayla asked.

"I don't know. She's not taking it well I think. Jack thinks it was Lawrence and that it happened at his villa. I suspect he is correct. I overhead her on the phone this afternoon—that's how I found out—that she hasn't told anyone so I don't think she's allowing herself much support."

"I hope she gets it. That's vital to keeping yourself mentally and physically away from your attacker."

Steve nodded. Kayla looked like she wanted to ask something, but debated about how to phrase it or if she should even ask. Finally, she did.

"Did you talk about me?"

Steve turned to look at her. The old struggle of positioning himself between his wife and his brother returned. He kept betraying one for the sake of the other. He had broken Kayla's heart so that she would turn to Jack and marry him. He had betrayed his brother by making love to Kayla after she learned the truth while the two were still married. He had asked Kayla after the kidney transplant to 'forgive' Jack to lower his risk of rejecting the donated organ. He had kept a high wall up around his past issues with Jack out of respect for his wife. Tonight all those walls had come crashing down and he felt that was yet another betrayal to Kayla on Jack's behalf.

"Only generally. Nothing specific. I talked more about me and how I had felt," Steve finally said.

"Did _he_ talk about me?" Kayla asked. One look at her husband's face and she knew that Jack had. She stood up, surprised that feelings of violation that she hadn't experienced for years came rushing back. Jack had stolen that knowledge about her; he had no right to those memories.

"Briefly. I stopped him. It won't happen again."

Kayla crossed her arms, determined. "I'll make sure of that."

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Jennifer blinked several times as the morning's golden light streamed in through the window, overwhelming the greenish cast of the room's fluorescent lights that she kept on while she slept. Out of focus, in the corner of the room, spread out uncomfortably on her desk chair, his long legs jutting well out in front of him, was Jack. She blinked several more times to establish her focus. It was Jack. He was really here in her room.

Her rustling covers had awakened him and slowly brought him to consciousness. He rubbed his eyes, but she could tell they looked sleepy and to her astonishment, kind and loving.

 _Where were the hard and bitter eyes that she had seen yesterday at the office and that previous night at the cabin and downstairs after she had wounded him so deeply?_ The transformation didn't make sense. She was glad of it, relieved even, but it confused her greatly.

"Hi sleepy head," he said, rising from the chair and stretching to remove all of last night's kinks. "Do you mind that I'm here?"

"No," she answered. That was the truth. There was something quite reassuring to wake and find him watching over her like a sentry. He had entered her bedroom, but not her bed. It was okay. "How is it that you're here?"

"Francois let me in last night."

"You've been sleeping like that," Jennifer pointed at the chair, "all night?"

"Umm-hmm," Jack replied casually, lazily, still waking up himself.

"Why? What's happened? Is something wrong?" Jennifer was sure that something awful must have happened and he was here from pity. He hadn't just forgotten the awful things she said. She wasn't that lucky. Life didn't work like that. "Oh God, Gram?"

"Your grandmother's fine, I assume. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to see you."

Jennifer noticed his lip and bruised jaw. "Oh Jack, you've been in a fight. Seriously, what's happened? Who did that?"

Jack sat back down in that chair. He figured that would make her more comfortable than towering over her as she sat in her bed. "It doesn't matter. I was hoping we could talk too, but this morning isn't good. I'm sure you have to get ready and run off to work. Can we meet tonight? Will you come to my place for dinner?" Jack grimaced, he should have brought flowers. He'd never invited her to dinner and not brought flowers—from the homeless guy on the highway off-ramp of course.

"I will," Jennifer answered with a small smile, excited but confused.

"Good." Jack pointed at the bedroom door. "I'm going now and leave you to get ready for your day. Have a good day and I'll see you tonight."

"Jack, couldn't you tell me what this is about? Please?"

Jennifer saw a shadow come over Jack's face. He didn't want to answer that question. "It's all okay. Let's just talk tonight."

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Jack was staring at one reporter's story for twenty minutes and hadn't red-inked it with any corrections. Normally, his edits for that particular reporter made the draft look like an autopsy, but today, just like yesterday. Jack couldn't focus or concentrate on work.

Therefore, Jack felt a jump of relief when he heard someone walk through his office door. He needed a little distraction from the edits at hand because he was accomplishing nothing anyway. That relief changed to dread when he saw who was at his door.

Kayla.

Jack jumped up, instantly deferential. He immediately realized that Steve had spoken with Kayla about last night. He wasn't sure how much Steve had said, but had most certainly related the truth about Jennifer.

Kayla shut the door behind her, but her hand stayed firmly on the doorknob. She didn't speak so Jack felt compelled to begin and fill the silence.

"I can guess why you are here, but I can't imagine that you would want to speak about that…with me." He felt unsure of what Kayla would say, but knew that he would listen and respect every word.

"There are some things," Kayla began, feeling as unsure about this conversation as Jack felt about listening to it. "I came here to tell you a few things and I would appreciate it if you would just listen, let me say my piece, and not to interrupt."

Jack nodded his agreement. He started to move round the desk and gesture for Kayla to sit down. "And I would really appreciate it if you would stay behind your desk and I'll stand here." Jack nodded again and returned to behind his desk. He stayed standing, with the desk as a divider, and Kayla stayed at the door, holding on to the doorknob, as far from him as possible, and prepared to be gone without a second's notice.

"Have you spoken with Jennifer?" Kayla asked.

"No, not about this." Jack went on to amend his answer. "I mean I talked with her this morning, but she was busy trying to get ready for work and then would have to run off to her job. I couldn't ask her about all this and then expect her to be okay at work. I asked her to meet me tonight to talk."

Kayla nodded.

"She sleeps with a light on," Jack admitted, still amazed at how thoroughly the rape had penetrated into her mind, life, and psyche.

"Yes," Kayla replied simply, as though she expected it. No power on Earth would make Jack ask her if she had slept with a light on during the aftermath of what he had done.

"I feel bad for Jennifer," Kayla continued. "She's a wonderful, caring woman and I'd like to help her. _However_ , I don't feel I would be helping her or doing her any favors if I were to talk to her directly about my…experiences."

Jack winced, horrified at that suggestion, which Kayla ignored and went on. "Since I don't think anything I could say to Jennifer would truly help her with her life and with moving forward in her life, that's why I'm here talking to you…instead. I think the best way I can help Jennifer is by reaching…you."

Jack nodded.

"When a woman has been raped…" Kayla stopped, closed and opened her eyes, and then decided to start again. "When _I_ was raped, _my life_ changed in a hundred different ways afterwards. I dressed differently, I checked the locks on my doors several times before going to sleep. I couldn't stand to be touched by anyone, man or woman, and yet I never wanted to be alone unless sometimes I did want to be alone so that I could just feel hurt or scared or whatever without someone constantly studying me or asking me every five minutes, 'Are you okay? Are you okay?'" Kayla gave a rueful expression remembering those times as Jack gripped the edge of the desk. He struggled to stay standing, to not ask her to stop, to not cover his ears, but he was determined to listen through to the end.

If Kayla could bear it to be done, then Jack could damn well stand there and listen to it.

"I hid most of those changes from the world. From everyone but Steve and the counselor I spoke with. I didn't reveal too much to my family or coworkers. I just didn't feel like it was their business. But I definitely did not want you to know. I did not want you to know my truth and how much you had affected me and changed me. I knew you had been determined to not be ignored, to not be disregarded, to not be forgotten as I went off to my happy life with Steve. Which was understandable I suppose, but didn't justify what came after. When you raped me, you did it to 'brand' me as yours—no different than a rancher with a branding iron on cattle and the effect was just as permanent, just as…insulting. I would not give you the satisfaction of knowing how well that you had succeeded. I would not allow you to take that extra pound of _my_ flesh."

Kayla's words were like daggers to him, but he knew he needed to hear all of this.

"So I only let you see that I was strong and resistant and determined. I never let you see the days that I stayed the whole day in bed not wanting to go out and see people. I never wanted you to know that the rape didn't end for me when you zipped up your pants."

Jack looked up at the ceiling, at the side door leading to the bathroom—anywhere but looking at her for the moment. Abject shame for who he had been, what he had done, pierced through him stronger than ever. Kayla paused, measured him, took a deep breath, and continued on.

"But you've seen it now or you've seen something like it…with Jennifer. You've witnessed first-hand all the big and small changes that happen in a woman's life. You have changed enough from that time so that you have earned the love and acceptance of a wonderful woman like Jennifer. Since you have changed, I feel more confident that these words will have sufficient impact on you so that I'm willing to speak of it. More impact I mean than what I said at the trial."

At the trial, Kayla was forced to speak about the rape and somewhat about the effect of what he had done. But back then he was too filled with anger that he wasn't ready to listen and fully comprehend the consequences of her words.

"Jennifer will put this behind her, I promise you that. I hardly think of the rape at all anymore—even when I see you. Except for times like these of course. But it is a long road to get from there to here. Because when a woman is raped, she is rendered powerless—powerless to stop it from happening, powerless to prevent it from invading every part of her mind. She feels like her choices and desires don't matter, are not to be counted or considered. Her choice is irrelevant. And part of the way back is to re-establish that power over her life and to know that her choices do matter."

"And Jennifer chose you."

Kayla paused to make sure that statement did not get disregarded or its import lost in everything else she was saying.

"She chose you and you should respect that. Don't undermine that choice; don't subvert that choice by thinking you know better, that suddenly with the change in circumstances that you aren't good enough for her anymore."

Kayla stopped and nodded, "Yes I know you. I know how you think. I don't even need you to tell me that's already occurred to you. However, I'm telling you now. Do not disregard her choice or make her powerless in this decision about whether you two stay together. She wants you. She agreed to marry you, _despite everything_."

"Do not walk away from her because she was raped and you think that because of your past that she's better off without you. If you do that, Jack, then you are _punishing_ her for being raped."

Kayla adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse and glanced at the door behind her. "I'm going to go now. I'm not interested to hear anything you might wish to say. I hope you heard me and try to heed my advice, for Jennifer's sake and for your own."

Jack nodded. He had several things he wished to say like how much he admired her for coming here and saying these difficult admissions. He knew it was on Jennifer's behalf, but he knew she also did it for him—or rather for Steve's brother. She loved her husband that much. He knew, that out of respect for Kayla, and his sister-in-law was right of course, out of respect for Jennifer's desires, he could not run away just because these next weeks and months ahead were going to be damn, damn hard.

He also knew this conversation would never be discussed at a later time and next time they saw each other, then things would remain as they had been (although Kayla would not be on the opposite side of the room, clutching her escape route). This conversation was only to be internalized and known, but never to be repeated.

Kayla turned around and left. When Jack saw the door shut, he collapsed into his desk chair.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack was nervous, waiting for Jennifer to arrive. He checked everything about the dinner table several times—the lighting, the vital space heater, the salads were already set and waiting under lids. He wasn't serving this dinner in his bedroom like he'd done before. That was just way too much implicit pressure. He didn't want it indoors either—too many memories of dinner with Harper at that dining room table. He wanted it to be outside in the fresh air and he figured Jennifer would prefer that—and feel less trapped or cornered if they ate out in the open.

Jack couldn't help but mull over the whirlwind of the last several days—his arguments with Jennifer, his discussion with Steve, Kayla's extraordinary monologue. He was just glad for this brief instant in time to just momentarily pause and breathe. He acknowledged again what an astounding and unexpected gift Kayla had bestowed upon him with her visit. Her unfettered honesty, her deep concern for everyone involved, and her amazing strength just still continued to humble him. God, the Jack at that time was no match for her. He knew he had grown since those old days and he truly hoped that current Jack could actually be a proper match for Jennifer. Kayla had been right. He had tried to 'brand' her that night, to claim rights of ownership on her over Steve and even over her own will. What a jerk he had been. Recognizing that now didn't make him a good person, he knew, but he would assert that he's better than he was.

And thank God for Steve. Jack didn't know why he couldn't say the words "I love you too" in the hospital when Steve had said that. It was obvious to everyone how much he admired Steve. He was so grateful daily that Steve had survived that explosion and able to pull through those injuries and walk out of the hospital on his two feet.

His journey with Steve also amazed him. Three years ago, Jack felt quite content to look down on Steve and placed him in the gutter. Since then, he had realized the truth—that Steve was the far better man. Now, he looked up to Steve and had placed him on a pedestal. He also guessed that it was that change in perspective about Steve that helped Kayla to forgive him in that letter to the editor in the Chronicle newspaper last fall after Harper died. They had never spoken explicitly about the letter and he doubted they ever would. However, he had changed enough to understand the true worth of his brother, Steve Johnson,

And Jennifer. Good gracious, he could continue on for hours about everything she meant to him. How she fulfilled him. The pain from losing her—in his mind—with the slap at the cabin was just beyond all description, beyond all knowing. When he had learned the truth from Steve, the pain transformed from a selfish inward pain to a sympathetic, far-more-hellish pain because Jennifer had suffered. Jennifer had felt pain. He kept imagining what she had endured, projecting his own memories of rape onto her experiences, reliving his created memory of what she had suffered. And the more he thought about what Jennifer had gone through, the more he loathed himself. He hated himself—who he had been, what he had been capable of, that nasty part of himself that he buried deep but now he would forever have to acknowledge that dark past was part of Jack's existence. And the more he hated on himself, the more determined Jack felt that he had to bury that alternate self so deep that Jennifer would never see Nasty Jack again.

The pain from learning the truth that she had been raped was just as torturous, but it wasn't quite as sharp as the aftermath of Jennifer slapping him. That pain was dulled by the selfish hope that he and Jennifer might still have a chance to be together. And Kayla had practically ordered him earlier today to give that a chance. But she had been right. Jack had taken away Kayla's choice about consummating their marriage. Lawrence had taken away Jennifer's choice about consummating their marriage. Jack would not, could not, take away Jennifer's choice about her future with him. If she still wanted him and for as long as she wanted him, then he would be there for her—always.

Jack heard the doorbell and wove around the furniture on the lanai through to the house and to the front door. Jennifer looked beautiful and glittering in her silver dress and silver coat. "Hi." She looked nervous and shy, but still like she was anticipating a nice evening.

"Hi," answered Jack matching her shyness and then he grinned. They were acting like this was a first date. "I'd offer to take your coat, but we're eating out back and while it is cozy, you'd probably still be more comfortable with your coat."

"Sure. That's fine with me," Jennifer answered back.

"Here, these are for you," Jack handed over a bouquet of flowers.

"Tulips?"

"You don't like them?" Jack pressed.

"No, they're beautiful. I've just never gotten tulips before."

"Well that's what the guy on the freeway off-ramp was selling. I think he maybe ripped off some poor little Dutch girl…or something."

Jennifer laughed. The tulips were wonderful and thoughtful—much better for tonight than roses with all their associated romantic overtones. She liked how Jack always managed to surprise her. Well, almost always. The surprise about the cabin wasn't that great…. Stop it Jennifer, she told herself. This will be a nice evening.

They sat down on the lanai and settled into their salad course. Jack was being cordial, diffident, and polite. It thrilled Jennifer at this astounding transformation she had seen today, but it also unsettled her. She needed to know what brought about his change from yesterday afternoon. She placed her fork down, anxious to get at the truth.

"Jack, you told me this morning that you wanted to talk. I don't think you meant tulips and recent staffing changes at the Spectator. Although the flowers are beautiful of course."

Jack had been through too many political dinners in which polite talk was made over the starter and main course and then the real talk happened later. He wanted to repeat that now. He wanted Jennifer to have a nice meal and full stomach before anything substantive was addressed.

"Our tuna is coming out now. Could we just wait?"

Jennifer shook her head.

"Compromise. Half the tuna."

Jennifer's eyes were sparkling. "Agreed. But I can chew fast."

Jack liked to see her this way—at ease and feeling comfortable. He guessed he had slowed down the romantic pressure he had unconsciously been putting on her these last weeks. Now, the truth was known to him. There was nothing to prove or reassert—Francois wasn't competition. He supposed that was what she needed—not to have the unspoken questions 'Why can't I touch you? Why can't I make love to you?' hanging in the air every moment they were together.

Five minutes later, Jennifer put down her fork, feeling gleeful that she had won out in their battle of wills.

"Hmm. Done now. So spill, Jack."

Jack closed his eyes and the light-hearted mask that he had worn since her arrival fell away. Jennifer sat back in her chair. She no longer felt comfortable.

"I'd like to finish what I planned to say. When I do, then you are welcome to stay and talk about it or stay and not talk about it or you can leave if you wish. Sheldon has the car outside and can take you wherever you want to go. It's your choice."

"Go on," Jennifer said in a small voice.

"I heard something," Jack began.

"You heard something," Jennifer repeated.

"I now suspect that when we were at the cabin and you..said..what you did, that you were not referring to me. You had said as much that night, but I was too wrapped up in myself. I was hearing the words, but I wasn't truly listening."

Jennifer did not move. She held her breath.

"Were you speaking of Lawrence?"

Jennifer shook her head in disbelief. This wasn't happening. "When?" she said in a small voice; she knew when he was talking about. She just wanted to delay, stall, procrastinate.

"When you slapped me."

Jennifer looked at the stars in the night sky. Looked around at the well manicured gardens. _This wasn't happening._ "I have to go," she said abruptly and rose from her chair.

"Jennifer please."

"You said I could go. I'm leaving."

"Of course you can go. Just know how I adore you and I am here for you."

She turned round on him, "Where did you hear such a thing? Where, Jack?" Jack's heart was breaking for her. When he didn't answer right away, she continued on. "Lawrence didn't tell you that, did he? Did he?"

"No! God no!"

"Then who!"

"Steve," Jack confessed.

Now Jennifer was even more stunned. _How did Steve of all people know about her?_

"I have to go." Jennifer, already wearing her coat, scooped up her purse, and rushed to the front door. She slammed it hard and stood outside breathing fast and hard as tears came down her cheeks.

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Steve and Kayla were upstairs giving Stephanie a bath. Her peals of laughter rang throughout the house as she splashed mommy, or better yet, splashed papa. Steve still thought often about the boat explosion; he had come close, too perilously close, to dying and leaving behind his wife and daughter. He had taken chances before and had been foolhardy before, but he had a daughter now. In that hospital bed last fall, he could genuinely feel himself slipping away and leaving behind his family. He had heard his brother beg him not to welch on his promise that Steve made as a little boy to always look out for him. Steve only mentioned that childhood promise once to Jack—on the night that Jack saw the adoption papers and learned the truth. Jack had told him that night that he would always hate his older brother and had figuratively spit in his face, but he had been listening.

At the front door, they could hear someone pounding, banging on the door. "Steve!" they could hear a woman's voice yelling outside. "Steve, I want to talk to you. I know you're there. Get down here."

Steve placed the voice. Jennifer. He gave Kayla a long, meaningful glance, rose up, and went downstairs.

When he opened the door, he saw she was angry and irate—fire in her eyes. She glowered at him. "Steve, I have to talk to you."

Steve, wanting to keep her calm, remained calm himself. "Okay, but let's talk outside. Kayla's giving Stephanie a bath and putting her to bed. Let's not disturb them. Okay, Jennifer?"

"Fine," she replied. She spun on her heel and trumped down the porch stairs. Steve grabbed his leather jacket from off its hook in the foyer.

When he reached the bottom step, she jabbed a finger in his face. "Did you tell something to Jack?"

Steve bit his lip. "Yes. I did."

"And just how did you come to know whatever it was that you told him?"

"I overheard you on the phone at your loft and…and I was concerned."

Jennifer pushed him; both her hands flat against his chest and shoved him back two feet. "You eavesdropped on a private conversation and you should have kept it to yourself and respected my privacy. Instead, you go gossiping to Jack?"

"Jennifer, it wasn't like that truly. I am sorry."

"So why don't you tell me what was it like. It was my right to tell him. My right." Jennifer shoved him again. "Not yours. It was my right to tell him when I was ready. And you stole that from me!" Jennifer moved towards him and beat her fists a dozen times against his chest. "God dammit, you stole that from me. It was my choice. My story. Not yours!"

Jennifer gave him another hard shove. Steve knew that Jennifer was in agony and angry about so many things. He knew she felt safe showing that anger to Steve. She couldn't allow herself to give voice to all that anger with Lawrence. She wouldn't want to hurt Jack even more by taking her anger out on him, yelling at him, and pummeling him with weak, ineffectual fists. However, she had buried the anger for so long that she finally needed to express it. And if that meant yelling at Steve on his front lawn and shoving him around, then by God, he'd definitely let her do it.

"Jennifer please that's not what it was like. I was concerned, truly. I care so much about the both of you…"

"So why don't you tell me what it was like, Steve," she said back in anger and frustration. "Dammit!" she repeated, more to herself than to Steve. Jennifer brought her hands up to her face and Steve could tell that some new realization had just dawned on her. "Jack was hit. Someone had hit him," Jennifer looked him directly in the eyes, "That was you."

Steve winced; he didn't think he could have felt worse about his actions the previous evening. He was wrong. "Yes."

Jennifer's voice was icy and cold. "You didn't just tell Jack. You didn't just gossip about it. You accused Jack. Didn't you?" Steve didn't answer right away. "Didn't you!" Jennifer repeated.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

Jennifer shoved him again, much stronger this time. It wasn't just general anger and pent-up frustration, but now she was genuinely and wholly pissed at Steve.

"How dare you! What must he think? How must he feel? He idolizes you. He loves you. And you—you know that you can say anything or do anything to him and he will never defend himself. You know that and you take advantage of that. Don't deny it; I've seen you do it! I've seen you get in his face and punch him or shove him around, knowing that he'll never strike back and that he'll never defend himself. And you've gotten used to that—to no one defending him. Well I am here and that's all going to change. I will defend him. I will always be on his side. He is one of the most amazing, wonderful men I've ever met and I love him with my whole heart. If you've made it more difficult for us to work out, because you put all those accusations in his head, then I will never forgive you Steve. Never!"

Jennifer stopped to catch hold of her breath and flipped her hair to get it out of her face.

"You know what you mean to him. I know you do. I'll never forget one day about a year ago when you had asked him to be the best man at your wedding—the one that was supposed to be here at your house. I saw him after you asked him and he was so excited and giddy and happy—like a kid who got ten years worth of Christmas and birthday presents all at once. He was drinking champagne and still in shock that you'd even asked him and I remember how…grateful…I was in that moment to you. That you had made him that happy—the happiest I had ever seen him. I would've done anything for you in that moment for making him so happy. You know he will do anything for you and you go and stomp on that by accusing him of something so vile?"

Steve felt so bad now about everything that had happened to hurt Jack and Jennifer. He couldn't debate the truth of her words. She was right. He had gotten used to no one, except his mom, ever presuming to defend Jack.

"I will marry him," Jennifer went on, trying to convince herself as much as the man before her. "I love that man so very much. All I have is his. We will get through this; soon it'll all just be a bad dream and we will get married. I will be Mrs. Jack Deveraux. And we'll be happy. And we're going to have lots and lots of babies." Jennifer didn't sound angry anymore, but desperate to fight for the life she wanted.

"I know you will," Steve replied softly.

"We will. That will happen and no one will stop us. Not even you." Jennifer shoved him again.

"You're right about all of that and I swear that I did my best last night to make up for my egregious mistake. I swear to you Jennifer that it won't happen again." Steve wanted to help. "Can I ask you a question and feel free to say no."

"What is it?" Jennifer asked icily.

"Can I give you a hug?" That question broke down her defenses. In that moment, she really did want that. She wanted to feel the arms of a strong man around her, enveloping her and protecting her. She'd gone without human contact for so long and needed that. Not from Frankie and not even from Jack, because she still felt paranoid that any such contact would have sexual connotations that she would have to fend off in Frankie's case or disappoint in Jack's case. She didn't have her brother or her dad around and she really needed a strong brotherly hug in that moment.

Jennifer nodded, moved forward, and let him wrap his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest. Her breathing slowed and her heart rate slowed. His strong muscles around her were a comfort. She tried to forget Lawrence's strong muscles that she had fought and struggled against and that had held her down as he stole from her and altered the course of her life. Jennifer just melted in Steve's embrace and they stayed like that for a very long moment.

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After Steve had gone downstairs, Kayla had glanced out of Stephanie's window and had spotted them down on the front lawn when Jennifer was shoving Steve about. She had no inclination to go down and interrupt. Steve could take care of himself and whatever Jennifer needed to express, Kayla certainly was not going to stop her. She saw that her husband never raised his hands against Jennifer, not to warn her off or to defend himself. His hands were always firmly at his sides.

God, she loved that man. He was the most amazing man she had ever known and counted herself so lucky that she got to go through life with him.

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After Jennifer stormed out an hour ago, Jack had spent the time listening to Miles Davis play some jazz and mentally kicking himself. He didn't know how or if it could have gone better. Jack had skirted around the topic, Jennifer had skirted round it—neither one used the word rape. He let her know, obliquely, that he knew and that he was willing to talk whenever she wanted to. Hopefully, from the way he treated her that it demonstrated he didn't blame her.

He heard a knocking on the front door. He got up, dialed down the volume on his music so it played softer, and opened the front door. Jennifer was at the door; her hair was askew now and her eyes weren't fiery like when she had exited earlier.

She walked past him and into the living room. "Sheldon wanted to drive me back here." She dropped on to the sofa, sitting at one end so that he could sit on the opposite end and leave a comfortable distance between them. "I forgot my tulips."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jack's mouth. She was so much like him. He would have said the same thing—always deflecting and denying the real reason he would show up on her doorstep.

Jack played along. He pointed to the French doors for the outside patio. "They're out back still. Want me to go get them?"

Jennifer waved off the suggestion. "They'll keep."

"Would you like to do something? I have a video of one of the films up for Best Documentary at this year's Oscars or we could continue listening to jazz. Or Mahler? I have a new Mahler CD. We can just sit here and be…comfortable."

 _Comfortable? Yeah, right. At least, we'd be together and no giant secrets between us._

"Your jazz is fine while we talk."

Jack's pulse quickened. "Would you like to talk?"

"I'd like to listen while you talk. I'd like to ask you some questions, if I may."

Jack didn't fully comprehend her suggestion, "Sure, I'd like to think I was a good mentor for you at the Spectator. Fire away with your questions."

Jennifer shook her head, obviously wary of broaching the topic she had in mind. "Not that type. I've had dozens of questions running around in my head for weeks. I can't stop thinking about them. I can't sleep because of them. I need to know why…how…he…"

He now became aware of her meaning and every molecule, every atom inside of him recoiled. Jennifer had spoken calmly and evenly. It was making the suggestion seem so civilized when it wasn't. She wanted him to answer questions about the rape—about what he had done to Kayla. Yet she hadn't been able to acknowledge that was what had happened to her.

Jack jumped up off the sofa. He couldn't throw a veil of polite manners and euphemisms over this talk. "I can't!"

Jack's impassioned plea broke through her wall and she finally spoke with uncontained emotion,"You wanted to talk. This is what I need to talk about." Jennifer stood up too, "This is what I need to know. I don't know how else I'll ever get the answers!"

"Are you asking me to be a proxy for Lawrence?"

Jennifer looked at the floor. "Not like that, but please answer my questions. You brought this up. I wasn't ready to talk about this yet."

"We don't have to talk about anything now. Please don't equate me with him, regardless of how apropos it might be. I don't want to be that man anymore. I want to discard that man—that man that I was. Discard him like old clothes because it just doesn't fit anymore. I was hideous—like one of those ruffly powder blue tuxedos. Please don't ask this of me. It'll destroy everything. We won't get our relationship back. And in the end, it won't answer your questions, it won't bring you any peace because I am not him."

Jennifer was crying now; the tears felt salty on her lips and she angrily swiped at them. "You said you wanted to help me. Well, _this_ would be helping me!"

Jack breathed in and out, trying to get a hold on the situation and himself, "What are your questions. Give me an example of one of your questions."

"Could you hear Kayla saying no?"

Tears started at the corners of Jack's eyes. He immediately recalled Harper's instructions and instinctively bit down on his lips. When that didn't work, he dug his nails into the fleshy part of his palm. "Jennifer please, I'm not that man anymore."

"Fine." Jennifer stormed past him and out to the lanai; a moment later she tromped back through the living room, tulips in hand, and out the front door.

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Sitting in the backseat of the limousine, Jennifer whispered to herself over and over, "Dammit, Dammit, Dammit, Dammit." She knew she had to fix this. She told Sheldon to shut off the car engine, bolted out of the limousine, and dashed back to the front door.

She rang the door bell several times and Jack didn't answer. Was he ignoring her? Done with her?

She was terrified she had pushed him too far. Even after everything with slapping him at the cabin and calling him a rapist, she still could not stop hurting him. She hated herself. She was so worried he would blame her or would hate her when he knew. Now that he did know (and before she was ready, dammit!), she just didn't know how to handle it.

 _Why did she do that?_ she chastised herself. Why now when things were so tenuous, so precarious? When you're hanging on by your fingernails, you don't go waving your arms around. It was true that questions about Lawrence and why he raped her and what she could have done to stop it had been haunting her and keeping her awake for weeks. But why foist all that responsibility on to Jack? Now that it was in the open, she really did want to start a dialogue about what had happened to her but didn't feel capable of starting the conversation or talking about herself. She didn't want to relive her night of hell, but _truly_ that didn't mean she want Jack to relive his night of self-created hell either. _Truly, Jack, please believe me!_

She didn't know—couldn't know—that Jack had gone up to the shower to wash off the long and painful day and never knew that she had came back to the front door.

She looked up to the heavens and saw Orion, the hunter and thought as she trudged back to the car: _These are the days that try our souls._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Chapter 5**

* * *

The next day, Jack was in the office and for the third day in a row he was attempting to get work done and for the third day in a row, he was failing miserably. He had postponed all advertising, executive, and union meetings to some later date so that he could focus on just getting the paper out. This was not the time for him to be strategizing the newspaper's future and trying to work out the long game.

Growing up, Jack had never expected life to be so hard. Years ago, he learned that infatuation with his then-wife was difficult, then when it had all fallen apart, he realized that hate is even harder. Now he knew that love was the most difficult of all. Love required the most of one's soul, demanded the most sacrifice, and need the most commitment.

Jack knew he would never give her up, could never leave her. He would walk away from if she asked, but God he hoped she never would.

He hadn't spoken to Jennifer since she left last night and hadn't spoken to Steve since he had dropped him off at the pier the night before last and he had then walked to Jennifer's place. It was the first time that Jack had ridden in the actual, the legendary Bluesmobile. Under just about any other circumstances, that would've made Jack exuberant.

His mind kept getting called back to the past. He remembered he had found Lawrence hassling Jennifer in her loft. The three of them had been there—Jennifer, Lawrence, and Jack. During the tense confrontation, Jack had been unaware of the secret forced upon Jennifer, keeping her connected to her attacker and away from the people who loved her.

Remembering that man's unwelcome visit, Jack grabbed the phone and dialed the number of his security agency, 1-800-PROTECT.

"Hello, this is Jack Deveraux, I want a security detail following Jennifer Horton, but I have three very important conditions that are to be absolutely carried out. 1) I do not want her to know she is being tailed. 2) If a man named Lawrence Alamain shows up to her place or tries to engage her in public, then I want you to intervene. You can spill coffee on him, you can make sure the elevator breaks down, but he is not to bother Miss Horton. That is paramount. That is the entire reason for the tail. 3) I don't want any information reported to me on her activities. Whatever she does is her own affair." After a brief pause, he answered, "Yes, you have Miss Horton's information on file from when your agency protected her last spring-."

He heard someone opening the door, looked up, and saw Steve.

"But I will fax over the necessary information on the principles. Yes, thank you, good bye." Jack finished his phone call and hung up. He debated whether he should tell Jennifer about the guard he hired. He was worried that she would realize someone was following her and it would scare her out of her wits. He wasn't sure if knowing would be a source of comfort or distress for her and needed to think on it later.

"Steve," Jack rose from his desk and circled round. "Hi. How are you?" Jack was nervous and didn't know what to say. He was worried about the potential fallout from their talk.

"I wanted to check on you," Steve said.

"I've had better days and worse ones," Jack replied. "How about you? Are you wanting to…" Jack threw up his hands, "Aww, just tell me, do you hate me now?"

Now Steve looked surprised, "Hate you? I was wondering the same. You're wearing my bruises."

Jack shook his head, "No."

"Yeah, me neither."

Both stood in silence for a few moments, "How's Jennifer?" Steve asked. He was concerned after their talk last night.

Jack closed his eyes and shook his head. "We're worse than ever. I didn't think it was possible after the slap. When I learned the truth, I had a little sliver of hope, but that's all gone now."

Now Steve was confused. What Jack was describing was nothing like Jennifer's passionate proclamations said to him last night. It then occurred to him; did Jack even know that Jennifer had come by?

"What happened?"

"I had her over for dinner. It was nice and relaxed. She relaxed. But then I told her in a roundabout way that I knew. She immediately got up to leave. I couldn't stop her so she left for about an hour and a half and then she came back. I was so glad to see her; I thought it would be okay. We didn't even need to talk about all that—I just wanted her to feel comfortable…with me. But then it all went wrong."

"How so?"

"She wanted to ask me questions—about the…umm…the man's perspective. I couldn't do that. I couldn't put those images in her mind and think we could ever be okay again."

Steve stood there shocked, but tried to ameliorate the situation, "She's desperate. She's desperate for answers. I'm sure you can understand that." Jack nodded. "Did you answer her?"

"I couldn't. I'd do just about anything for her, but last night, I just couldn't. I didn't think it would help her. I just don't want her of all people to see me that way. The rest of the world—fine, I don't care. But not her. Never her."

"See her tonight. See where you two are at. That's the only thing you can really do. But trust me on this—that woman loves you like crazy. She wants to get married and have a life with you. You will work it out." Steve stopped, readjusted his eyepatch, and grimaced, "Look, I need to tell you something. Something has been on my mind since we talked and I just need to say it. Something I should have said a long time, but I need to say it now, because I never did."

Now Jack was curious, "About Jennifer?"

"About me. I am sorry."

"For hitting me?" Jack waved it off, "God Steve, it's fine really. Besides if I had a nickel for every time you grabbed my suit lapels then I'd be twice as rich."

"That's not what I meant, but that too. No, I am sorry about Kayla."

Jack went very still. Why would ever Steve apologize to him about Kayla?

"I'm sorry that I slept with her when she was your wife."

Jack put up his hands and shook his head, "Steve, you don't really—."

"I do. I knew you were my brother. I knew how you felt about her. And we made love anyway. It was one time. We kissed several—."

"Please, Steve, it's not—."

Jack appreciated Steve making the gesture, appreciated the feelings behind it, and glad that the words were said—once. He wanted them all to move on from that.

"I betrayed you—I mean I betrayed my little brother, Billy. That's all you really were to me at the time, but it should have been enough to have…waited."

Jack did not want to think about his brother in those terms; he would not hold Steve accountable for anything in that time. He had so quickly and easily held Steve responsible for everything three years ago and it led to so many ugly repercussions. He had paid a man to beat up Steve and leave him for dead. No, Jack would not allow Steve to apologize for _anything_ from those days.

"Stop. Just stop. You have nothing to apologize for about those days. It's all on me. Let it stay there. If I really thought what you did was so awful then I wouldn't have turned around and done it myself…with Jennifer…to Emilio. I was no better and fortunately, Emilio took the whole situation far better than I did."

Desperate to change the subject and shift all responsibility of those events back onto himself; Jack asked, "Do you remember how I was before—before I found out about you two? I would tell Kayla, you, Jo, or anyone else who would listen that I loved her like a gazillion times a day. I said 'I love you' as often as most people sneeze during allergy season and thinking back, it probably meant about as much."

Steve remembered that well. That Jack had been so needy and so annoying and had put so much responsibility of his feelings onto Kayla. As though Kayla should marry him just because she was _nice_.

"I realized with Jennifer that when it is real, when you are risking your whole heart, your whole soul, your whole being, then it is damn hard to say. It's the hardest thing in the world to say. "

Steve nodded. He remembered well how difficult it had been for him with Kayla.

"I guess that is my roundabout way of saying that all those thousands of times I said 'I love you' to Kayla it meant about as much as saying I love the Friday special at Wings. With Jennifer, it took me a year," Jack admitted, "after I knew it and six months after we had a our first real kiss—," Jack grinned at the memory, "which happened to be at your house."

"My house?" Steve asked surprised, "this should be good."

"Yeah. I broke into your house to look for Marina's key. Jennifer followed me—of course. I was mad she did that, but she wanted to help. Then you came home and we ducked into the secret passage."

"You know about that?"

"Yep, we were pushed up next to each other in the tight space and trying to stay quiet and then we…you know…" Jack wanted to remember those days when so much seemed so comparatively simple and their only obstacle had been Jack's insecurity. Jennifer didn't know all this current heartache yet. "In the middle of it, she dropped the little knick-knack she'd been holding. You heard that, grabbed your gun, and started looking around. You found your cat then, assumed he'd done it and we were off the hook."

Steve shook his head, "I think I remember that. So you were there? That was you."

Jack smiled. "Yes. After you were gone, we started cleaning up the mess of the dropped figurine. That's when we discovered the key among the fragments. So that's the real story about how I found the key and got to be a hero for a day."

Steve grinned back; glad to have one moment of light-hearted memory mixed in with all the painful and horrendous discussions of the past days. His smiled faded though when he saw Jack's face darken and noticed that Jack's attention was now on the door. Steve turned and saw Lawrence.

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Jack sat there staring at that man still standing in the door. His stomach started doing somersaults and he swallowed hard to keep down the rising bile in his throat. He pictured Jennifer being held in this man's vice grip, struggling, screaming, being ignored, being ogled. Seeing this man again, knowing everything, just sickened him. How could Jennifer stand it? How did Kayla stand it?

Debating how much he should reveal to him. Wondering how much of his smugness he could endure. He didn't even need to glance at Steve; he knew that his brother provided his unflinching support. Steve would referee the confrontation and even maybe rough up the Alamaniac with a bit of his trademark style for Jack's sake. Steve knew Jack couldn't indulge his baser, violent instincts. Jack thanked fate or the heavens above that Steve was here in this initial confrontation after he had learned the truth and even more grateful that Jennifer was not here.

Steve stood up and took a few steps towards this man. All of the anger he had felt the other night as he had to relive his long-buried feelings about Kayla's rape and as he helped Jack deal with the reality of Jennifer's rape came back in a fiery rush. He could now gleefully unleash that anger on the jerk before him.

No one spoke for a minute. Lawrence certainly noticed the change in Jack's demeanor since the last time he'd seen him and the look of hardened steel that was demonstrated within his brother. Lawrence came to see Jack; obviously he would need to speak first.

"Hello Jasper Jasper. Or is it Jack Deveraux? Or is it William Johnson? It is so difficult to keep track." Lawrence said coolly, giving the briefest notice to Steve—the man who had taken Bo's place on that boat and was quite fortunate to be standing here now.

Steve answered, seeing Jack's hesitancy, "Name Jack is fine."

"I've come to inquire about the Spectator."

Steve moved closer to Lawrence, their faces six inches apart.

"The Spectator is none of your business," Steve answered.

"This is quite a cute trick of ventriloquism," Lawrence smirked, "I ask a question to Mr. Deveraux and his puppet's mouth moves."

Steve smiled. If Lawrence wanted to underestimate or dismiss Steve as an adversary simply because he lacked bespoke suits and an OED vocabulary then it was at his peril. Besides, Steve immediately recognized that he was trying to split the brothers along 'class' lines. Lawrence's simplistic Divide and Conquer maneuver would not work.

"Steve is correct," Jack finally spoke. He could speak of the Spectator—not of Jennifer—not yet. "The Spectator is none of your business. However, it might serve as a meaningful model in that Spectator only publishes the truth. Truth seems somewhat nebulous to you."

"Perhaps, but I think the Spectator would do better if you had a vocal partner. You've grown lax by having a silent partner such as Ms. Colville. From what I've read, you've abandoned this paper for weeks at a time to go to Italy, on cruises, to New York, et cetera. A more stable captain would probably do better steering this ship."

"Vocal partner? Any suggestions?"

"Why myself of course. I think you would benefit as much by my tutelage as did the young Mrs. Alamain—Miss Horton, if you prefer of course."

Jack refused to rise to the challenge issued by mentioning Jennifer's name. He stayed focused on business.

"Diana won't sell to you," Jack said, doing his best to project his false confidence.

Steve spoke up, "If Diana was going to sell you her shares, then first she has to agree to sell them to you. I don't think that will happen."

Jack looked to his brother, grateful for his assistance.

"Really? She hates Mr. Deveraux and she's a smart business woman. You honestly believe she wouldn't sell to me?" Lawrence asked.

"She may hate me and with good reason. However, a few phone calls from a few of her friends here in Salem and I doubt she will sell to you. For example, she was a bridesmaid at my brother's wedding. I think she'll hate you more."

"Right. Now was that the wedding you weren't invited too? Your brother and your ex-wife had so many wedding dates listed on my fact sheet that I lost track. I must say it is…inspirational…the way you two have set aside your differences. I was expecting more like Cain and Abel between you two instead of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern."

Steve understood the biblical reference, but not the Shakespearean one. Jack got the insult and moved closer to Lawrence to get into his face.

"I must say, it is quite inspirational how you two get along so well. Steve cuckolds you, you forcibly consummate your marriage with your wife who is really his woman, and yet here you are now as one big happy family. There is so much wife-swapping between you brothers that one might think this forgettable Kayla Johnson was Queen Catherine of Aragon."

At the mention of Kayla's name, Steve reached up and grabbed Lawrence's face, "You don't speak of my wife, ever, or you'll be in trouble."

Lawrence appeared unimpressed with Steve's threats, "Really. You'll risk your entire future with the Salem PD because I mention Kayla? After your unfortunate accident last October out in the harbour, you should really be more careful. You could lose your family or your family could lose you in an instant."

Steve grabbed Lawrence by the lapels and pushed him up against Jack's office door. Jack hated intervening, but he rushed forward and got in between them. He nudged Steve back a step and slightly elbowed Lawrence in the gut.

Lawrence straightened out his suit, "Good idea, Jasper, to intercede between your guard dog and me. But I must say, that now that I know the full fascinating story about you two, I understand better why you naturally gravitated towards someone…inexperienced and virginal like Jennifer. Someone with no knowledge of men and unable to know your…shortcomings. You didn't want your girlfriend to be dissatisfied by comparing you to other men…like your own wife preferred your own brother for example. And who can blame you, really? But I am sure that Jennifer isn't quite so excited with you anymore—now that she has known better. Am I correct?"

Jack, who had been looking at Steve and worried about his reaction to Lawrence's implied threats towards his family by mentioning the boat explosion last fall, now turned to Lawrence and in shock. He knew Lawrence was vile, a monster, but did he truly just throw his rape of Jennifer into Jack's face?

In Jack's shock, he loosened his grip on Steve. With that, Steve circled round him and shoved Lawrence up against the wall once more. Steve wasn't going to allow anyone, least of all this filthy monster in front of him to undermine his hard-won relationship with his brother or to insult his brother with the most intimate and personal insults.

Jack, realizing the shift, brought his attention back to Lawrence and Steve, though he realized now that Steve was trying to defend him. Once more he pushed Steve back and tried to think of a way to tell Steve in that moment that nothing Lawrence could say would break him. Jack had one hand on Steve's chest and another on Lawrence's, but then turned round to face only Steve, removed his hands and started using sign language.

At first, Steve looked at Jack strangely. It took Steve a moment to realize that Jack was trying to communicate and Steve was rusty on his sign language. Jack, while not perfect, did get his point across, wordlessly.

 _"I am okay now. Don't risk your police job. We will get him."_

Steve signed, " _Okay_." And it left Steve wondering, when the hell did Jack learn sign language?

Lawrence was confused by the sudden change and what secret code the two brothers were using.

Jack turned his attention back to Lawrence. He would not speak of the rape with this man, certainly not before he had spoken to Jennifer. "You should take a look at your own life. You can't get a woman to marry you unless it's under someone else's name. Who would marry you as herself?" Jack looked Lawrence up and down; he was feeling strengthened with his brother behind him. "Jennifer only agreed to that to spare her friend from doing it—trying to spare her best friend a fate worse than death—being married to you. And of course, you threatened her good friend, Francois. That's the only way you can get a woman to agree—through blackmail. Through force—." Jack stopped himself there. "It's best you go. You won't accomplish your goals today. Best to cut your losses."

Lawrence looked back and forth between Jack and Steve, just now realizing that these two together could make a formidable enemy. They were both motivated, driven, capable, and dangerous-each in their own ways. Nevertheless, Lawrence knew the best defense was a good offense and he knew how to be as offensive as possible.

"That's good advice to take for yourself, Jasper. You might wish to be grateful with your present circumstances before you lose anything more. You might also want to be sure of your allies. Jennifer might just repeat history and turn to your brother as she turned to me."

Lawrence gave another long look at the Johnson brothers, "Good day, gentlemen," he said as he turned and left.

After Lawrence left and the door was closed, Jack looked to Steve and implored him, "Please don't tell me that I was ever as bad that." Jack was pointing at the door. "I know I was a jerk, but was I that big of a jerk?"

Pretty damn close, Steve thought. However, looking in his brother's eyes, he couldn't confirm it. "Not quite," Steve hedged.

Jack looked up at the ceiling, took a long breath and then sat on the edge of the desk. Feeling deflated with the drop in adrenalin, that he had relied so heavily on his brother, and that he hadn't stood up more aggressively to that jerk. He RAPED Jennifer and Jack was still so damnably polite to him. His father would be so proud of him—the perfect product of the perfect political upbringing. Jack was so pissed and angry at himself. He had made that vow of non-violence-although with very good reason of course. However, he couldn't help but feel castrated right now.

For the last year or so as he set himself firmly on this path towards redemption and a better life, he always asked himself in a lot of different situations: How would Steve react? Well in this case, he knew how Steve would react (and had one kidney to prove it!) and yet he had done nothing. And had even stopped his brother when he was going to give Lawrence what he deserved.

Steve interrupted his thoughts. "I'm sorry about what Lawrence said…about you. You know it's not true—like he said. But I wish I'd never gave him any ammunition to use against you—to hurt you."

Jack shrugged like he didn't matter. He didn't want Steve feeling any more responsibility.

"I've got to ask, when did you learn sign language?" Steve asked, still amazed. There were so many other things to be said and recounted, but that question just rushed out.

Jack looked embarrassed; he had wanted to diffuse the tense situation with Lawrence but he didn't really want to admit why he had learned. "Three years ago, when Kayla was injured and couldn't hear. I heard that she was learning sign language and I wanted to be able to communicate with her," Jack's face shadowed over, "And then I realized, she would never want to communicate with me and I felt embarrassed that I had gone to all that trouble. So I never let on that I had learned. I was never as proficient as you and Kayla anyway."

Steve looked at Jack astounded; there was so much, even from all those years ago, that he still didn't know about his brother. Except for Kim, no one in Kayla's family had bothered to learn sign language so they could talk and understand Kayla. And yet, with all of the horrible feelings on all sides, Jack had still wanted to be included in Kayla's life and to be able to reach her if she ever needed him. For some reason, perhaps all the confessions from the other night, Jack finally felt it was time to let Steve know that he had learned sign language all those years ago when things were so awful between them.

Regardless of how Jack tried to diminish his feelings now for Kayla—since they were a pale shadow of his love for Jennifer or Steve's love for Kayla—he had cared deeply for her. And yet here was the ultimate contradiction against that. You don't rape somebody you love. If you love somebody, then you don't rape them. Therefore, the obvious conclusion was that Jack did not love Kayla just for the simple fact that he had raped her. On one hand there was that inviolable truth and on the other hand, Steve knew that Jack somehow, someway, had genuinely cared for Kayla.

"Steve," Jack broke through his thoughts, "don't take this personally, but after all this, I just have to get out of here. I have to go."

Before Steve could respond, Jack was gone.

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Jennifer had an awful morning. Dan gave her a remote assignment on the other side of town. That meant riding out in the news van with the cameraman—being with this near-stranger, all alone for a 45-minute ride each way. Before Alamania, it would have meant nothing. Now she was anxious and on edge the entire time. When they got to the remote location, she had been flustered and nervous because she hadn't prepared properly in the van. She'd been too preoccupied with the cameraman. He was 25, good-looking, with dark hair and an approximate resemblance to Lawrence. And it was clear that he found her attractive. Normally she'd wave off the attention as irrelevant, now it was all-consuming and the paranoia overwhelmed all her thoughts and sense.

After her disastrous performance on location, the guy didn't seem as much into her as before, but the damage professionally and emotionally was done. Jennifer was a wreck when they finally arrived back at the WATB studio. The only thing she wanted to do was run to her grandmother and try to get her to soothe away all of her heartaches.

At the hospital, Jennifer rushed to the nurse's station and called out to the nurse standing there with her head buried in a patient's file, "Hi, have you seen Alice Horton, my grandmother?"

The nurse looked up and didn't answer with the urgency and immediacy that Jennifer had wanted so her frustration grew as the nurse lackadaisically thought and then addressed her question. "Hmmm, I saw her earlier…where was that? Umm, right. She's in a meeting of the hospital volunteers. It should be over at lunchtime."

"Thanks," Jennifer replied, annoyed, and then felt instantly guilty for her tone.

Kayla had inadvertently watched the exchange and with Jennifer's demeanor, knew that they needed to have a talk. Kayla circled wide around her, not wanting to sneak up behind or startle her by putting her hand on Jennifer's arm or shoulder.

"Hi Jennifer, can I buy you a cup of coffee?" Kayla asked when she came into Jennifer's view.

"Kayla, hi." _Oh goodness, not today, please._ "I really can't today. I have to get back to the station."

Kayla held out her arm and started ushering Jennifer into the staff break room. No one else was in there so they had some privacy to talk, "Ten minutes."

"I really can't." Jennifer objected again.

"Ten minutes please. I buy only the best coffee," Kayla said with a grin as she poured two cups from the communal coffee pot and sat them both on the table.

Jennifer relented and sat down, dreading this conversation, not knowing what Steve had said to Kayla. She really didn't want to discuss Kayla's past experience and hoped to God that Kayla would not bring it up.

"Jennifer," Kayla began, "do you realize we almost became sisters when I got engaged to your brother Mike?"

Jennifer smiled and nodded, relieved she wasn't bringing up anything painful…yet.

"And then when you were with my brother Frankie and I thought there _might_ be a chance then. But fate has its own ideas and now you're happily engaged to Jack. I'm so excited that soon we will finally be sisters." Kayla reached over and squeezed Jennifer's hand.

"Thanks Kayla, I'm so glad you see it that way," Jennifer replied, feeling grateful that Kayla was acting so positive and assured about her marriage with Jack.

"Well, don't go thanking me yet. There is a very important requirement of sisters and that is that we must be totally and completely honest with each other."

"Kayla, I—."

"So, as such, you must truthfully confirm that Stephanie is the cutest, sweetest little girl ever. And as family, you just have to look through all these photos of my daughter." Kayla, sporting a giant proud smile, pulled out a huge stack of 4"x6" photos from her purse.

"Oh, of course," Jennifer replied, feeling profoundly relieved at the shift in conversation.

Kayla showed her the photo on top, "Here's a really cute one of Stephanie grabbing at Steve's patch…"

"Awww," Jennifer exuded, "She's adorable. She's really has the cutest little nose."

"And here's one of her showing me a rose that Steve got for me, here she's wearing a cute French beret that Jack bought her." Kayla was slowly working down the stack.

Hearing about Jack's gift, Jennifer took a closer look at that photo; it was a stylish black-and-white hound's-tooth design. "That's precious," she didn't know he'd done that shopping and presumed he'd gotten the beret because of the French origin of his last name.

Kayla continued, "Here she's got a spoon stuck up her sleeve. I swear, I don't know how she managed to do that."

"Awww, I love that about kids. You get to be a hero to them about a dozen times a day."

"Here she's flinging smashed peas at Sean-Douglas."

"Now that reminds me more of Steve than you," Jennifer joked. When Jennifer started looking at the photos, she just couldn't focus. However, the images just drew her in to Stephanie's tiny world. The little girl was so precious and beguiling and in that moment, Jennifer had a strong intuition that her first born would also be a girl.

Kayla stopped for a second. "I must tell you, my little family with Steve and Stephanie—it's everything to me. We are so happy together. I would do anything, give anything, survive anything for what we have together. I sometimes have to pinch myself just to confirm that yes, I am getting to have this amazing life with them."

Jennifer nodded, realizing Kayla's roundabout intentions. Kayla knew about Jennifer's rape, was not going to mention the word rape, but instead show that there was definitely a happy life after rape. Silently thanking her for her sensitive tactic, Jennifer settled in to see more pictures of Stephanie. Kayla didn't patronize her and didn't baby her. She just acted like everything was normal and would be okay.

Kayla turned her attention back to the photos. "Here's Stephanie holding on to the coffee table as she's 'cruising'—that's the stage before walking as she's able to stand and move but only holding onto stuff for balance, here's a really funny one of Steve wearing applesauce all over his face, compliments of Stephanie of course."

Jennifer chuckled, "I'm sensing a pattern here of Stephanie and throwing food."

"You know, when I'm with Stephanie, I sometimes just can't help to remember my darker times." Jennifer's face clouded over so Kayla quickly went on, "I was sitting all alone in a prison cell, not sure when I would get to be a momma again to this precious little girl. I remember being alone in the hotel room in Australia while Steve was out chasing leads when she'd been kidnapped. I wondered if we'd ever get to be a family again. Those were dark times when I felt really isolated and alone, like there was no one else in the world who I could talk to and who would understand how I felt. But time and strength-of-will are really great healers for those dark days I had. I found untapped reserves of my own personal strength that I didn't know I had," Kayla's face that had turned serious, brightened once more, "And that is all behind me now. I had to work hard—very hard, actually—to not allow Stephanie's kidnapper or the sentencing judge to steal my joy and my future. I would not allow them to steal that essential part of myself that I knew was me."

Jennifer smiled, "Thank you. I appreciate you showing me your pictures." Kayla knew that Jennifer meant so much more with that statement.

Kayla waved it off, "I'm always looking for a captive audience. Between buying film and the money to get these developed, I'm spending a small fortune on photos. I want to get my money's worth. Showing my soon-to-be sister-in-law is part of the fun of being a mom."

"And I appreciate one other thing—that you've never tried to discourage me from being your sister-in-law."

Kayla looked up and measured Jennifer, unsure of how deep and dicey Jennifer wanted to go; she was determined to keep this light. "Jennifer you are an intelligent, compassionate self-aware woman. I have every confidence in your ability to make the best decisions for your life. You don't need any unsolicited advice from me."

Kayla, intent on changing the subject, wanted to bring Jennifer's focus back, "Now, I do have a super serious, super important question to ask you."

Jennifer was unsure where this was going, "Okay…"

"Since we're practically sisters now," Kayla smiled and Jennifer smiled back. She felt so appreciative that Kayla was being so positive about their engagement. They would work through these seemingly insurmountable issues and would marry. Jennifer wanted to reach across and tackle Kayla in a hug, but played it cool, the same way Kayla was playing it. "Please help with Stephanie's first birthday party. Jo and my mom will help of course, but it would be such fun for me if you would help too. Aunt Adrienne and Aunt Kim are both out of town, so I could really use Aunt Jen's help. If you're too busy with work, then I totally understand though…"

"No, no. I would love to help. Truly, I love doing this sort of thing. It will be such fun and I could really use the diversion…" Jennifer winced and that inadvertently hung in the air for a few seconds.

"Great! First birthdays are obviously more for the grownups than the kids of course, but we almost lost Steve last fall. It scares me to think how close we came so I want to make sure this birthday is done up right because Steve came so incredibly close to missing it entirely."

"Well, thank goodness, he didn't," Jennifer agreed.

Kayla looked down at her stack of photos, "Do you have a photo of Stephanie yet?"

Jennifer shook her head.

Kayla flipped through the photos until she reached the one of Stephanie wearing Jack's beret. "Have this one." Kayla glanced at her watch, "I better get going. I have some more experiments to run if I'm going to see Steve at the Heart when I promised. If you're able to catch your grandmother, please tell her I said hello and I'll phone you about Stephanie's party." Kayla rose up, kissed Jennifer on top of her head, and was gone.

 _Sisters. I never had one._ Jennifer was thinking after Kayla left, still astounded at her 'sister's' sensitivity, compassion, and grace.


	6. Chapter 6

Jennifer stayed in the nurse's lounge for several more minutes nursing her cup of coffee. She desperately wanted to fix things with Jack. She felt awful—between the slap, running out on him, and the horrendous line of questioning last night; she was sure she was pushing their future to the breaking point. Why did she ask those questions last night, why? Was there some latent resentment about his past that she felt? Jack's past had been, well not irrelevant, but not an insurmountable barrier for her when they first got together. However, Lawrence had intervened and hijacked their lives. His past was now laid out before her. She needed to reconcile her present and his past in her mind. She knew she needed to do it and all the wishful thinking and bridal magazines couldn't push away that necessity. Could she do that on her own?

The foundation of her life was based on three fundamental pillars: 1) her love for Jack 2) her love for her friends and her family; and 3) her pursuit of truth and providing a spotlight to social injustices through her work. Lawrence had knocked out those three legs from beneath her and he had toppled her equilibrium, her entire world view and her closeness with Jack and her friends and her family. With this secret, she was separated from them and was finding it nearly impossible to function at work. Lawrence had uprooted, upended and upset everything that was sacred about her life. She could not speak of it. She could not be around her friends and family because every moment she did, was a moment that she did _not_ tell them the truth and therefore every moment felt like a lie.

She needed to see Gram though; whether she felt like a liar or not. She needed her hugs, and she knew that this moment would feel like one more lie heaped on top of the hell that Lawrence had made of her life.

As if dictated by the fates, the door opened at that moment and in walked Alice. Jennifer could not hold it together any longer. She teared up and rushed towards her grandmother and gave her a long hug.

After a long moment, Alice leaned back and put her finger under Jennifer's chin to study her better, "What is happening, Jennifer Rose?"

"Everything is falling apart, Gram." Jennifer confessed. "I feel like I'm being pulled down this giant vortex and I—."

"Let's sit down," Alice led her over to the couch by the windows and sat them both down. She gave Jennifer a tissue. "This can't be just about Jack, is it?"

"Gram, he loves me and I love him, but I don't know if that's enough. I just keep hurting him. He's opened up to me in ways that I never dreamed he would six months ago and I've stomped on him. I've hurt him too many times. I can't ever forgive myself. What is wrong with me, Gram?"

"You're hurting too. I see that. I don't know why, but you are." Jennifer shook her head no.

"Uh-uh, Jennifer Rose," Alice wasn't going to let her wiggle out of that. Jennifer put her head down. She wiped at her tears and then squeezed her eyes shut tight.

"Jack invited me over last night for dinner. Despite everything of...before, he was sweet and then I went and hurt him again. I had an awful morning and I talked to Kayla and she made me smile for a few moments, but I'm living on a knife edge, Gram. The least little thing can knock me off."

Alice brought Jennifer's head down to her chest and just let her calm down for several minutes. "Can you tell me why?"

Jennifer didn't answer, but Alice could feel Jennifer shaking her head no. "Can you tell Jack?" Again, Jennifer shook her head no, "He knows…now. But I still can't speak of it. I just can't get the words out."

In that instant, Alice knew the truth. Alice understood and her heart broke for her granddaughter. Once more, she put her finger underneath Jennifer's chin and Jennifer looked up into her eyes. "None of this is your fault. None of it. I love you and nothing you ever tell me with ever change that. Understand?"

Jennifer nodded, but she didn't tell her grandmother anything. They sat like that, hugging on the couch for a long time.

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Jack ended up at the docks. He didn't know why he had come here countless times; but he always seemed to naturally migrate here. For years, when he was troubled, he would come here to the dark, usually isolated place and look out over the water. Regardless of all the changes in his life, the water never changed, the water had no memory. The water was always flat, peaceful, calm.

Jack struggled against Lawrence's words. Lawrence wasn't right about him. He didn't choose Jennifer because she was innocent and virginal and wouldn't be able to compare him with other men. He wasn't that insecure. He wasn't that traumatized from Kayla choosing Steve over him. Lawrence was just trying to poison everything good and decent in him. The truth was Kayla didn't reject Jack as her husband because he was lacking anything; she just could never love him because Jack _wasn't Steve_. The same way that Jennifer couldn't love Emilio, despite her best effort, because Emilio _wasn't Jack_. Their actions weren't about right or wrong or about who was married to whom. They were just about love. The truth was Romeo and Juliet were destined for each other and Count Paris or some other interloper just could never compete.

Jack stood there, fighting the memory of Lawrence's words. He would not let that man blacken, overwhelm, or overtake his mind.

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Steve knew where to go to find his little brother. He found him there on the docks the night he had found the adoption papers. He found him on the docks when Steve had returned from Italy and it was on these docks that Jack had told him that Kayla was pregnant. It must be a Johnson trait because he gravitated to this spot as often as Jack did.

"Jack?"

He turned and saw his brother. Jack smiled, "You know, I did leave the office because I wanted to be alone and think."

"Yeah. And you were alone. Now you're not. Deal with it."

"Fine. I'll deal. But seriously, you've got to have better things to do than babysit your baby brother."

"Not today. Let's go get a beer at the Heart."

Jack looked back out at the water, "I can't drink right now."

"We need to talk. The Johnson brothers have got to come up with a plan together to nail Alamain."

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"So what's your plan?" Jack asked after the pints of lager were dropped of at their corner table.

"I don't have a plan, yet. This ain't my rodeo. You tell me what you know about him."

"I know that he hates Bo for intervening between him and Carly. Carly and Lawrence both happened to be living under assumed names though Lawrence knew that Carly was Katerina and his betrothed, but Carly didn't know that Lawrence was."

Steve raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's tough for me to keep it straight too. And the guy that I call Francois and you call Franklin and everyone else calls Frankie, he's Carly's brother and has a fortune in cash. The Von Leuschner fortune that Lawrence had to forfeit since the marriage arrangement never occurred."

"So, the Von Leuschner fortune. That's something that Franklin has that he wants. Jack, think this through logically, what does he have that we want?"

"His freedom. I want him to go to prison, of course."

"Besides that."

"The marriage annulment with Jennifer."

"Annulment on what grounds?"

"That it was under duress. Jennifer didn't even get married with her legal name. It should be no more legal than two actors getting married in a movie."

"We'll that's here in the U.S. What about in Lawrence's country? Could it be a legal marriage there? If Lawrence went through with it, then I'm sure he made sure the legalities were in order."

"Yeah, but it was never consumm—." Jack squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Is that why?" Jack asked in a small voice.

Steve shrugged. There was nothing else he could do.

Jack stood up and paced around the table, trying to get his thoughts back in order. He picked up his beer, down the rest of it, and put it hard back on the table. He swung his chair around and straddled it.

Steve wanted to bring Jack to focus, "What are his weaknesses?"

Jack rolled his eyes, "That he's a jerk?"

"Seriously here, Jack."

"Umm, Leopold was. He cared what Leopold thought of him. He did show that he cared about his father. Now that his father's dead, he likely blames us. He has nothing left to lose. Also, he knows that all of us—Jennifer, me, Carly, Bo, Frankie, Julie—we all have people we care about. He's got nobody. How is such a man to be worked on?"

Steve shook his head. "Everybody's got somebody. We just need to find who or what his weakness is. Why don't we work it like this? I'll talk to Bo about Lawrence's past and see what more we can find out and if Carly is still a weakness for this guy. I'll also talk to Franklin and see about this von Leuschner business and what he can tell me from that angle."

Jack looked confused, "What about me?"

"Well, you know, I probably have better relations with Bo and Franklin than you do," Steve smiled as he was stating the obvious. "Best I talk to them. I want you to do some investigative digging and see what else you can pull up."

"I want Jennifer to stay out of this for now. Let's just keep this between you and me for now."

"Sure. You might talk to Mickey also," Steve suggested. "He's handling Jennifer's marriage. He should know how truly despicable Alamain is. He should make sure that she stays protected legally and that Lawrence doesn't try to blackmail her into signing something."

Jack nodded, "Of course. You know, I just don't understand Lawrence. When I first heard about…the rape...I couldn't help but think that maybe we were similar. Maybe that could help me get inside his head and destroy him. However, I've tried doing that since—getting into his mind and I just can't. His father was kind and loving, heroic even. Leopold died saving our lives. How could someone so coldhearted and mercenary be raised by someone like that?"

Steve set down his glass, "You're thinking of Harper and Duke, aren't you?"

Jack nodded.

"When you did the majority…of your crap…you didn't know you were Duke Johnson's kid, you didn't know Harper was a psycho killer."

"No, but I had Duke's blood in my veins and Harper's lessons in my head."

"You did those things yourself. You. Not Duke. Not Harper. You. Stop deflecting it on to them."

Jack shook his head, "I'm not trying to deflect it or excuse it. I'm trying to understand it."

"Well what I'm saying is that you should probably look inside yourself and that the answers of all the nasty stuff you did can't just be simple answers of nature or nurture. You've said as much about Lawrence. Stop looking to them, to Duke and Harper, as the answers and look to yourself. And maybe when you do, then you can answer some of these questions better about Lawrence."

Steve looked up from his pint to the door and then looked to Jack. Jack had his back to the door and didn't notice who had just arrived at the Heart. It was Jennifer.

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Jennifer was scanning the bar. She did that every time she entered into a place. She had to always look for strange men, suspicious men now, and the one man she wished she had never met. She didn't think she would find him here. He wouldn't come to the Cheating Heart for a drink. He would go to Wings or the Salem Inn, not this dive bar. And she needed a drink.

In the corner, she spotted Steve looking at her and immediately recognized the back of the head of his brother. Jack. Then she remembered Kayla saying at the hospital that she was meeting Steve here later. _Damn, where is her head these days?_

The instrumental version of _When I Fall in Love_ started playing. Her attention turned to the jukebox. She was surprised that song was even on the playlist. What was fate trying to do to her? Jack is here and that song is playing? That is the song they danced to the night she got engaged to dear, sweet Emilio. She still couldn't believe he was dead and gone. With everything that had happened, she hadn't even been able to start processing that. If Jack hadn't kidnapped her on her wedding day, then they would have been married and she would be a widow. It all seemed so impossible how fickle and cruel is fate—to her and especially to Emilio. Even on that night when she got engaged Emilio, her attention had been on Jack. He asked her for one last dance with her "ex-boss" and she obliged. She had appeared reluctant, but inwardly she felt so electrified and alive, alert to any hint of possibility for them. This song was playing and they shared a magical moment and then the song was over and he turned away…

Jack turned towards her; seeing her, he stood up. He glanced at the jukebox; he remembered the song too. Was he going to ask her for a dance like last time? She couldn't handle that right now. She just couldn't let herself be touched. Not yet, not even in public, not even by Jack. It would be weird and awkward and she would disappoint him for the hundredth time. He didn't move.

He bit his lip. She bit her lip. He took this as permission. He walked slowly towards her, hands behind his back. He stopped about two feet away from her. Her eyes were filled with trepidation and regret about how far apart they had drifted. He was nervous and suddenly feeling shy. But loving her had made him impulsive and had made him trust the notion that he did not love in vain. He relied on that now, though his heart was beating wildly.

"And so I quote Shakespeare regarding the gulf that between us lies:

With love's light wings did I o'erprch these walls,

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do, that dares love attempt."

The song still played in the background, providing additional resonance and power to his words. Hands still behind his back, he spoke with no look of expectation, just a need to be heard, just a need for her knowing. That for him, knowing the truth or not know the truth about Lawrence changed nothing. By repeating the poetry from the night he proposed, he hoped she knew that he would have still proposed regardless.

He stood there, not moving, letting the moment draw out, not allowing himself to get embarrassed or shy. She would choose. Stay or go. Dance or leave. Whatever she wanted; he was willing to break down those walls. This moment—he was daring all, attempting all. The choice was hers. He was hers.

Jennifer looked at Jack, hearing his words and hearing his unspoken message. She loved him; she hoped with the look of forlorn hope in her eyes that he could see her love for him. Despite everything, past and present, she loved him. She said none of this though. She couldn't move. She was frozen, timid; her mind still hijacked by that monster. She looked around and felt suddenly conspicuous. Everyone was looking. Everyone except Steve who had his beer tilted to the ceiling and was taking a long, long drink.

She couldn't take all the eyes of the other patrons on her. While feeling conspicuous, she also felt exposed, naked, judged, on display. Just like when Lawrence had torn off her wedding gown and looked her up and down. She recoiled from that memory; she couldn't handle that feeling anymore. She pointed at the door, mouthed the word 'sorry,' and bolted out of the bar.

Jack stayed motionless; he ran his hands through his hair after the bar door slammed and she was gone.

"Run after her," Steve told him.

"No."

"She wants you go after her. "

"Doubt it."

"You ran away for six months from her. Didn't you want her to chase after you?"

Jack thought about that for a long moment. "I wasn't ready to be caught. I am forever grateful that she waited though. And that's exactly what I will do. I owe her. I owe her everything. All I have is from her."

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Kayla entered the Heart and saw Steve and Jack in the corner, huddled in conversation, with their pints of beer before them and their empties pushed off to the side. Kayla took a long breath—a long inhale and exhale—since this would be the first time she had seen Jack since her doorknob-clutching, soul-bearing speech to him. She hadn't spoken of it to Steve and hoped he hadn't also. She knew she should say something to re-establish equilibrium and the status quo between them.

Thinking back to all the things he had done, to the long journey they traversed to get from there to here, and all the ways Jack had sought atonement, it just still astounded her. In all of the group counseling sessions she had been in, not one of the other victims had ever reported that her rapist had ever apologized and had ever taken responsibility. All of the other women reported that those men either disregarded it as nothing or blamed the woman—as Jack had done in the immediate aftermath. She had come far since those black days, but so had Jack. She remembered her nightmare of the 'one-kidney brothers' she had a few weeks after the rape. In that nightmare, Jack and Steve were heading off to the Heart from the hospital for some beers to blow off some steam and to blow off Kayla.

Kayla walked over to the table and gave Steve a long hug and kiss. She didn't shorten it because Jack was there and it might make him uncomfortable. She hoped he was long past that and she had no desire to accommodate that discomfort anyway.

"Hey sweetness," Steve said after they pulled out of the kiss, foreheads still touching. "Good day?"

"Umm hmm, better now though," she said.

While they were talking and kissing, Jack focused on his beer. Specifically, drinking his beer so that he would have a reason to leave when he reached the bottom. The Johnsons were so wrapped up in their reunion after being apart for five hours that they didn't notice him chugging his drink.

After a long enough time, Jack cleared his throat, "Ahem, sorry but I have to get back to the newspaper. We're on deadline—like everyday. Steve, so you remember what you're gonna do and I'll remember what I'm doing. Thanks again. Nice seeing you again, Kayla." He drank the last bit of his beer. "Well, bye now."

Before Steve has a chance to respond, Kayla spoke up, "Jack, before you go. I'd like to say something."

"Okay," Jack replied warily. He eyed Steve wondering what he knew and if she would bring up her visit to his office.

Kayla continued, "I want to say this in front of both of you so that there's no misunderstanding. A few years ago, the idea of you two sitting here in a bar, sharing beers—well, I had nightmares. I had actual nightmares about it. I woke up screaming just from the thought of it." Both Jack and Steve stayed frozen in place, but Jack did sneak a glance at Steve and could tell this was news to him too. "Seeing you two just now as I walked in reminded me of that nightmare from long ago and reminded me how much has changed since then. Now I'm glad to see you two like this. I truly am." She turned to face Jack, "Jack,.."

"Yes?" Jack said in a barely audible whisper.

"I want you to feel welcome in our home. You have a standing invitation for Sunday dinners or to come over whenever to watch football games with Steve or play blocks with Stephanie. You don't need Jo or Jennifer to come over with you as a buffer, you don't need to wait for a time that I'm not at home, and you don't need to stay on the front porch if I am home. I've noticed you do all that. I want you to feel comfortable in our home. You are an integral part of Steve's life and Stephanie's life. Clear?"

Jack nodded, stunned and amazed once again at this wonderful woman. "Thank you. I will remember."

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Jack went back to his office, hoping to struggle through the thick stack of neglected work piling up on his desk. It was late; past normal quitting time when he arrived back at the office. When he pushed open his office door, he was surprised to see Jennifer, in his chair, her head down on his desk, fast asleep.

She looked so amazingly peaceful and beautiful sleeping there; her hair falling forward and partially shielding her face. He sat down in the visitor chair in front of the desk and checked his watch—6:30. She must not be sleeping well at night if she can't stay awake at this hour. Of course he realized why she couldn't sleep and it hit him again how completely, how overwhelmingly the rape had infiltrated into all aspects of her life and her mind. He remembered again Kayla's talk to him the other day when she revealed how much she had hidden back then of the effect the rape had on her. He was seeing it now.

 _You're going to live with it for the rest of your life._ Kayla had said that night. She was right. He knew that when he stood before St. Peter on Judgment Day that night would be the first charge he would be required to account for.

 _Stop mixing Kayla's rape and Jennifer's rape_ , he told himself. _That doesn't do Jennifer any good. It just makes you wallow in self-despair and she deserves better._

With fresh determination, he picked up the top sheet from one of the stacks of papers that Jennifer wasn't resting her head on, and dug into his work.

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About thirty minutes later, Jack noticed her stirring. She partially lifted her head and was surprised to see Jack's kind, bemused eyes staring back at her.

She flipped back her hair from her face and sat up fully. "I'm sorry, I guess I was more tired than I thought," Jennifer said.

"That's okay. I don't even mind you drooling on my work."

She wiped her mouth and checked his papers on the desk. Both dry. She realized he was teasing her and rolled her eyes. This moment felt nice, almost normal… _almost_.

"Do you want your chair back?"

Jack shook his head. "You're fine."

"It's not fine. Just let me speak."

Jack held out his hand, gesturing her to go ahead.

"I have to apologize for last night. I have no excuse. I've treated you…horribly...lately. Last night was…unforgiveable."

Jack leaned forward, "It's okay." He hoped he sounded sincere, not dismissive. He did mean it. " _That_ wasn't unforgiveable." He was thinking about what he had been, what Lawrence was now. He didn't mean to give that much emphasis and hoped that Jennifer didn't catch his meaning.

Jennifer picked up his red marking pencil and started thumping it nervously, "Look, I don't want to talk about anything. I don't want to talk and I…I don't want to hear you talk…about that. Truly. Could we just be here and not talk about the last few days?"

Jack nodded.

"I've missed you," she said softly.

Jack's heart just melted at those words—that tiny admission that conveyed everything. So much was contained in those three tiny words!

"I've missed you too," Jack admitted. He hoped that she could sense everything that he felt.

"How was your day?" Jennifer asked, hoping to transition into something lighter.

Jack looked chagrined. _What could he say? All his confessions to Steve? Lawrence's visit? Kayla's invitation?_ "It was fine," he answered anemically. "How was your day?" he asked in return.

A cloud passed over her face. _What could she say? Her paranoia of riding in that news van alone with the cameraman? Her talk with Kayla? Her breakdown with her grandmother?_ "It was fine," she answered, equally unenthusiastically.

A wide chasm still existed between them, but a narrow, rickety bridge was slowly being built.

Their non-committal answers hung in the air for several moments until Jack finally broke the silence. "Are you hungry?" Jack asked. That was a safe question he assured himself. No potential landmines there.

"I could eat. You offering?" she replied.

"I'm offering sub sandwiches and a bench in the park. How does that sound?"

He wanted it public, casual, and non-romantic. He didn't mean for it to sound so cheap, but he could be very, very cheap if it would make her happy. Jack grinned at the thought.

"Sounds good," Jennifer agreed.

Twenty minutes later, they were on a park bench with their sub sandwiches. It was a little too cold outside to be eating and most people just rushed past them as they tried to get out of the cold. Both Jack and Jennifer didn't mind the temperature though. If this was what it took to be okay to be here with him, Jennifer thought.

The conversation was stilted though. They struggled through with Spectator office gossip—something they hardly ever did. Jack, desperate for conversation, even threw a few story leads her way. So many topics, so much of what needed to be said, remained unsaid. They were here together though and it was enough.

Jack wanted to ask if he could hold her hand, help warm them up since she left off her gloves because she was still eating her sandwich. He felt wary of asking though and felt silly for even thinking of asking _Can I hold your hand?_ like he was a fifth-grader or something. He looked down and noticed she was still wearing her engagement ring and he felt so grateful and relieved that she hadn't allowed him to take it off her finger that day after she had slapped him. If it had been taken off her hand, who knew how long it would take before it got back on?

Mid-bite, Jennifer felt something on her shoulder and immediately jumped off the bench and spun around to see who had touched her. The impulse of flight and fight both instantly flooding all her senses. Seeing nobody, she looked at Jack with half-questioning, half-accusing eyes.

Jack's eyes sad, he pointed up to the trees. "It was a seed pod or a leaf or something." Jennifer looked up, looked around, and then looked down at the remnants of her sandwich in the dirt. "It's okay. Why don't you have the rest of mine?"

"I have to go home." Jennifer said suddenly. The hopeful, tentative, baby-step mood of the evening was ruined and she needed to go before his eyes turned to pity or worse, he started questioning her.

"I'm going to walk you."

Jennifer, imagining the unbearable awkwardness of the walk home, shook her head. "I'll be fine. Lightning doesn't strike the same place twice."

Jack stared at her for a second, comprehending her meaning. That she would be fine walking home because now that she had been attacked and raped once, the chances of it happening again were quite remote. She provided the opening so he asked, "Do you want to talk about…the lightning?"

Jennifer shook her head. "No," she said, embarrassed at her statement.

Jack let it go, "If you don't want me to walk you, that's fine. But I will follow you and make sure you get back home okay."

Jennifer shrugged and started walking in the direction of her home. She couldn't let it end like that, "I'll be in touch," she called back.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack arrived in the office the following morning and saw the stack of piled work was now only two inches thick. Progress. At work and with Jennifer. After last night, he felt far more hopeful than he had since that evening in the cabin with the slap. She said "I've missed you." He played that over and over in his head.

On top of the accumulated papers on his desk was a large envelope that had obviously been dropped there by someone else. He always made right angles of his stacks and that envelope was askew at about sixty degrees. He opened it up and started looking at its contents. He dropped into his chair as his mind started processing what he was seeing. On top, it was an 8"x10" black-and-white photo. It was taken at night and cropped in tight so that the two photographed people dominated the picture.

It was a profile view of Steve and Jennifer; Jennifer was in Steve's arms. The next photo, similar 8x10 black-and-white, but this one showed them hugging. The last photo showed Steve's hands on Jennifer's face. From the angle and the cropping, these photos looked exactly like the photos that reporter gave him years earlier of Steve and Kayla. The photos that led to his ruination.

Steve and Jennifer weren't kissing, like in the old photos, but it looked intimate and intense. _Steve and Jennifer. Steve and Jennifer?_

 _When did this happen? What is going on here?_ Jack slowly placed the envelope and photos on the desk. He had trouble swallowing; his heart was racing. Time seemed to stand still. When were Steve and Jennifer ever together? Steve wouldn't…. Jennifer definitely wouldn't…. It can't be the same. It just can't be like before. It just can't be like those photos of Steve and Kayla all those years ago.

Think carefully, Jack told himself. There are two issues here—the content of the photos and the intention of the person who sent them.

First issue—the content. Jack noticed Jennifer was wearing the same coat in the photo she had worn the night she came over to his house. She had gone somewhere for 90 minutes; she never said where. He didn't think anything was going on between Steve and Jennifer—the whole idea seemed so incongruous with reality that it was almost laughably absurd. He trusted in Steve's faithfulness to Kayla (really more than he trusted Steve to not move in on someone else's fiancé). And Jennifer loved him, Jack knew, and Jennifer was in no mood to be intimate with anyone these days. It was innocent; Jack knew it was an innocent moment of course. But it was intentionally manipulated and designed for misinterpretation by whomever took the photos. That was the second issue.

 _Lawrence_.

He would capitalize on that painful chapter in Jack's past. He would try to divide these two brothers by suggesting that Steve was betraying Jack once more—and this time with Jack's great love, Jennifer, just as he had done with Kayla. This was Lawrence's initial attack; his opening shot across the bow.

Jack thought through the potential ramifications. Lawrence had looked well and deep into Jack's history and knew the perfect method to reignite his rage, jealousy, and self-loathing—those photos of Steve and Kayla that had started so much. It also meant that Lawrence was tailing either Jennifer or Steve and had his henchman take photos of an innocent moment and saw it as a perfect opportunity.

Jack picked up the phone and called his driver, Sheldon. A quick phone call did confirm that he had driven Jennifer to Steve's house the other night at her direction and then she came back to Jack's mansion. He put the photos back in the envelope and headed over to Steve's.

Once arriving at Steve's house, he took a deep breath before knocking on the door. A minute later, Kayla opened up the door. She looked tired like she had already had a long morning and desperately needed a cup of coffee.

Jack asked her in a sing-song voice like a little kid, "Hi Mrs. Johnson, can Steve come out and play?"

Kayla gave an amused smile, "Jack, I thought we talked about this. Please come in."

Jack turned serious. "It's not a social call."

Kayla shrugged, "Fine, I'll get Steve."

Jack nodded and paced for a few minutes until Steve appeared. "It looks like the uneasy truce we've had with Lawrence since we left his country has ended. He's launched his first volley over the wall."

"What did he do?"

"Sent me these," Jack handed over the envelope.

Steve opened it up and pulled out the photos, "What the—? Jack, that was nothing. It was innocent. Jennifer's like a kid sister."

Jack just lifted his eyebrows in response.

"I hope you know that. Look she came over here the night after you found out the truth. She was upset that I told you, but she really just needed to blow off some steam, which she did."

Jack was still feeling hurt. Those photos brought up a lot of feelings from the past. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just didn't. Don't go letting this drive a wedge between us. How do you know it was Lawrence?"

"Who else? Could he be tailing you or should we assume he was following Jennifer?"

"It's not me. I'm just careful about that stuff as a rule, especially these days since the boat explosion."

"You don't understand the significance of these photos, do you?"

Steve shook his head. "They're just photos—rather pathetic attempt to make mischief."

"You don't get it. It's the same set-up, same framing, same angle, same damn photo size as the pictures of you…with Kayla…from that night of the election."

Steve winced, "Oh man. I didn't realize. I never saw them. How did Lawrence find out about them? It just goes to show if he's going to these lengths to find out everything about you, then we have to do the same." Now Steve was pacing the front porch. Lawrence would send these photos of Steve with Jennifer to Kayla too as a painful reminder, just to be a jerk.

Jack sat down on the porch swing, "My lawyer entered them as evidence at the trial. I guess they became public that way."

Jack nervously tapped his nails on the porch swing. He wanted to say something; he wanted it said, but didn't know how to say it. "Look, just do me a favor alright? Keep your hands off Jennifer."

His tone called Steve's attention. He turned full around and stepped towards Jack, a half-foot from his face. They squared off. Despite everything, he was surprised the turn that Jack had taken. "Excuse me?"

Jack inwardly groaned, he didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be like this with Steve. He really didn't want this fight, but those photos had resurrected a lot of the old hurt and old pain. He had blown off Steve's apology about everything that happened with his marriage to Kayla and had told him that his apology was unnecessary, but Jack was realizing now that the wound, the deep-seated insecurity was still there. Jack said nothing more, but he continued staring at Steve. This was serious for Jack.

"Look, _baby_ brother, I will hug, comfort, or touch any friend I damn well please. You got that?" Steve stood close to Jack, but didn't grab at his suit or try to rough him up. He had heard Jennifer when she chastised him for doing that and would not get physical with Jack again. "You need to back off—now. I'm not your enemy, man."

Jack didn't want to fight, but didn't want to back down either. "Dammit all to hell!" Jack kicked hard at the porch swing and broke the front wooden slat of the seat. Broke it clean in half as though it had been a karate demonstration.

Watching Jack break the wooden slat flipped the situation around in Steve's mind and he smiled. It managed to deflate away all the tension in the moment for him. He took pity on his brother and forgave all of it. God only knew how tightly wound up Jack was over all this. "Do that again," Steve ordered.

Jack was still angry, "Don't patronize me. I just don't want Jennifer turning to you, alright?"

Steve ignored that, "Kick the damn swing."

Jack kicked at the seat and it swung backwards wildly. But a slat didn't break on that kick, so he did it a third time and broke two more. Half of the seat was gone now. Jack calmed his breathing and looked up at his brother.

"None of this is about me and Jennifer. There will never be a 'me and Jennifer.' The very idea is absurd. Get it out of your head."

Jack glared at Steve, "I'm still mad at you." Jack was actually mad at himself. Steve was the heroic kind of guy that Jennifer needed right now; he was doing his damndest to be like Steve, but he never felt adequate. He never felt like he was enough. Despite, Steve's confessions to Jack of his criminal past, Jack had only ever known the heroic Steve.

Steve smiled, "No you're not."

Jack gave him a punch on the shoulder.

Kayla came out the front door at that moment, "Stephanie is down for a nap—she's been up since four this morning," she explained to Jack. "What's going on?"

Steve hands over the envelope.

"Steve, don't show her," Jack sounded more plaintive than commanding.

Now Kayla was looking at both of them strangely, but didn't comment on the porch swing and its wooden fragments laying on the ground.

"I'd rather she see them from me than from Lawrence."

Kayla took the photos out, looked at each one, and then handed everything back to Steve. "I assume that's from the other night?"

Steve nodded.

Kayla looked at Jack and answered his unasked question, "Yes, I recognize them," Then asked both brothers, "So you two are going after Lawrence, aren't you?"

"Yes," Steve answered. "I want to help Jack out with this one."

"This won't end with me at your bedside in the hospital begging you again not to leave me or your daughter?"

Steve held her gaze and answered sincerely, "No, it won't."

"Promise?" Kayla needed that assurance after the gigantic scare they had last fall. She still woke up with nightmares from those too tense times.

"Promise."

Jack was watching the exchange and saw this incredible energy and love pass between them. So much heartfelt emotion and years of experience could be contained in their simple words.

"Then go nail that bastard."

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That evening, Jack appeared at Jennifer's doorstep with some burritos, a bottle of sparkling water, and the _Goonies_ movie on video. He wanted casual, no alcohol, and a funny movie with no sex. Once again, cheap was merely a bonus.

When Jennifer opened the door and saw his offering, she grinned.

"Can I come in?"

Jennifer moved to one side. "Sure," and motioned him in.

"I come bearing dinner and entertainment," Jack said, using finger quotes for both the dinner and entertainment. He didn't mention the photos Lawrence had sent him that morning. He would just add it to the list of forbidden topics that they were compiling in order for them to co-exist these days.

"It's fine," Jennifer said. "It's very thoughtful, actually."

"There's plenty to share. _Francois est ici?_ "

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "No, Frankie isn't here." She went up into the cupboard. "Let me get some plates and glasses."

As Jennifer reached up to the high shelf, Jack noticed her wincing. He was at her side in an instant. "You okay?"

Jennifer flushed, "Yes, it's silly really. I was on assignment today; we were at a firehouse interviewing…"

"Let me guess," Jack interrupted, "You were interviewing firemen. Am I right? Did you tell them about the time you got to ride in a firetruck and kiss a Dalmation?"

Jennifer looked amused. "Yes, firemen. No, didn't tell them. But they wanted to film me sliding down the fireman pole," With that, Jack thought of a dozen dirty jokes, but kept quiet. "So I did slide down and I landed wrong and now my back is a little sore."

Jack took a chance, "Can I give you a massage?"

She hesitated and bit her lip, mulling it over.

Actually, as Jack thought more about it, he thought it was a good idea for them and tried to really sell it to her. "Look, you can come over here and sit in this chair," Jack pointed at one of the cushiony chairs; he figured it would be better than laying flat on a blanket on the ground or worse, the couch. He knew it was weird, but ever since he learned what Lawrence had done to her, he didn't want to go near her couch. "It'll be therapeutic, calming, clinical. My hands will only be on your back, I swear. If you don't like it, then we'll stop."

Jennifer was considering it; Jack was trying and she should try also. She knew he would never hurt her. She knew it would be nice to feel his hands on her and test the waters, so to speak, in a completely non-sexual way. And her back was hurting, a massage would be a huge help.

"Can I keep my shirt on?"

"Of course. You can do whatever you want," Jack answered.

"I know. It's just standard to be..."

"We'll work around it." Jack went over to her radio and dialed over to the classical music station to help create a relaxing, soothing mood.

"Okay. Should I sit here?"

Jack nodded and she went over and sat down. Her heart started beating fast. She knew his hands would stay on her back; he wouldn't try to reach around and cop a feel. He wouldn't use this massage as a pretense for foreplay. She knew he understood her unspoken limitations and was willing to abide by them. She trusted him completely.

He was behind her, his fingers hovering over her shoulders. He was nervous, but decided to just push through the trepidation and go forward. He placed his fingers softly on her shoulders. She instinctually tensed up.

"Sshhh, relax," he soothed.

"Could you do one more thing for me? I can't see you when you're behind me, so could you keep both hands on my back the whole time so I know where they are?"

"Of course," Jack said, attempting to sound natural and yet realizing the persistent sense of violation that precipitated her request.

Jennifer worked on keeping her breath calm and steady. She felt his fingertips feather light on her shoulders—they just barely caressed her through the silk blouse that it almost felt ticklish. When she said nothing after a moment he started applying more pressure and moving his hands further down her trapezius muscles. Feeling his hands on her back, she realized how large his hands were and that they could easily span her back. She closed her eyes and worked on settling here into this moment and trying to find some measure of peace with him touching her. His hands moved up to the back of her neck and she immediately recalled when Lawrence had put his hands around her neck with the implied threat of strangling her. She instantly reached up and pushed Jack's hands, "Not my neck, please."

"Sure," Jack easily replied and his hands migrated back to her shoulder blades and then further down her back. If her bra straps that he could definitely feel through the silk fabric made it more difficult for him, he never commented on it. After a while, the massage didn't seem quite so strange or so foreign to her. It was comforting to her that Jack could touch her and she felt trusting and at peace with him. She started feeling hope that someday they could be sexual together again. She had some doubts that she hadn't wanted to admit or acknowledge, even to herself. That it would be difficult to reconcile herself now with his past. She knew they would have to talk about her rape and his past—but not tonight. He was accepting who she was at this moment and she was accepting him too.

"Jennifer," Jack began, interrupting her thoughts, "did you ever learn about Plato's Allegory of the Cave in college?"

Jennifer tilted her head to look up at him with an amused smile, "Plato? You're thinking of Plato right now?" Jack nodded so she answered, "I remember that vaguely from my Philosophy class, but that was the semester where I tried balancing my coursework with working at the Spectator so I don't remember too much."

"It's a story Plato told about people who lived their entire life in a cave and chained so they can't move and can only look forward. And no, I don't know how they managed to eat or use the bathroom, but let's just assume they didn't. These people can't see the fire that is burning behind them or feel its heat; they can only see the shadows of objects projected onto the wall that they're staring at. For their whole life, for their whole existence all those people know are those shadows on the wall. They don't know the real fire or the real objects behind them and they certainly don't know about the sun, which is so bright it makes even the fire appear dim in comparison. All they know is darkness and shadows."

Jack said all of this while continuing to massage her back, "Then one day, one person is freed from his chains and is able to look around. The firelight is blinding to him though and he fights against the person who freed him from his chains. But finally he's able to see the fire that has been behind him this whole time and he's finally able to understand that the shadows aren't real. They are merely a reflection or projection, whatever, of what is actually real. And in that understanding, comes truth, and with that truth comes the hope of a better life. A life where he gets to live out in the world, see real objects, interact with real objects and other people, and understand the sun as the source of all light and life. He is no longer imprisoned by his false conceptions and living half a life. He now knows what is real."

Jack leaned down to whisper into her ear; his breath was hot on her neck and tickled her ear. His hands stayed on her shoulder blades. "Before I knew you, I was that prisoner. I had no idea what real love was—all I ever knew were shadows. All I had were pale imitations of life, of love, of relationships. I knew no better. You freed me; you unchained me though I was kicking and fighting against you for months as you may remember. Do you remember that fire in that cave where we first made love? For me, that was the fire in Plato's Cave Allegory. You freed me and released me to a far, far better life. I know what love is now. I know what is real. I know it with you."

Jennifer had tears in her eyes hearing Jack's incredible admission of love. He was giving her all this incredible credit for saving him and was making her feel so special. Ever since Lawrence raped her, she had felt like nothing. She turned her head to face him; she brought her hand up to caress his cheek and then wiped the tears from her eyes. They watched each other for a long moment, neither wanting to break the spell. After about a hundred heartbeats, Jack lightly kissed her forehead, stood up straight again, and commenced with the massage once more.

Jennifer sat there speechless and trying to figure out how they (actually, how she) could ever get back to their Cave.

Jack continued with the massage for several more minutes letting the silence draw out between them.

"There's something I have to tell you," he began finally. "I hope you don't get upset."

Jennifer immediately stiffened and drew up her shoulders, prepared to shrug his hands off of her. "What?"

"I've hired some security for you. They've been tailing you since yesterday. Jennifer, I—."

"Why?" her voice sounded scared, sharp. She remembered Lawrence's guard too well.

Jack kept his hands on her back, like he'd promised but focused on her, not the massage. "Not to spy on you. I don't get any reports from them; I don't want any reports. I just want to make sure that you're not…hassled."

Jennifer tilted her head and glanced up at him; he looked anxious that she would be mad and concerned for her. "Hassled?" she asked.

"Yes, but I also didn't want you to realize someone was following you and get worried."

Jennifer breathed out, touched at his thoughtfulneess. It was a relief to know that Lawrence wouldn't get close to her and that Jack wanted to put her mind at ease. There was nothing he could do about the past; he couldn't change it, but he wanted to prevent anything from happening in the future.

She reached up with her left hand, grabbed his left hand and pulled him around so that he was kneeling in front of her. "I think you're wonderful."

"I'm not," Jack smiled. "I'm not wonderful. I'm just a passable facsimile of it with you," he reached up and tapped her nose.

Jennifer acted like she was mulling that over, "Hmm, what kind of burritos did you bring?"

"Chorizo and carnitas."

"You remembered. See? You are wonderful." She looked into his soulful blue eyes and then her gaze migrated down to his lips. She felt tempted to kiss him; just a quick kiss. Just to let him know how appreciative and _relieved_ she felt that he had stuck by her despite learning the truth about her rape. However, she didn't want to push their relationship forward knowing that she would have to pull back. She wanted to show him how much his patience and understanding had meant to her. Impulsively, she leaned forward, put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a long hug.

"Thank you for the massage," she said while hugging him. "My back feels much better. Why don't we watch the movie?"

Jennifer didn't know, couldn't know, how much that hug had meant to him. His day had started out horribly, seeing those photos of an innocent hug between her and Steve that had been manipulated to appear tawdry and cuckolding. He felt so relieved that she felt equally comfortable hugging him.

She stood up, went past him and grabbed the paper-wrapped burritos from the bag, and tossed them in the microwave to reheat. Jennifer knew this would be one evening that her mind would stay diverted until at least 10:00 p.m. These few hours of peace that she would spend with Jack were freeing for her. However, she knew there would still be a long restless night ahead when Jack went home after the movie.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning when Jennifer arrived at WATB, she discovered she had a bothersome assignment. Valentine's Day was coming up in a few weeks and they needed to get some themed stories prepared to show when they had a slow news day. She was supposed to go to a jewelry shop and get some diamond buying tips and go to a wedding dress store to showcase people shopping.

Jennifer hated these kind of fluff pieces. She wanted the hard-hitting news stories that showcased all of the people who were down on their luck or in crisis. She didn't want to educate people about the 4 C's of diamond, but it came with the territory of TV journalism—look good on camera and do the 'lifestyle' stories.

The jewelry store bit was fine. It took longer than Jennifer wanted because the cameraman had to take a lot of time messing with the lighting for the diamonds. But it was finished and they got to the wedding dress place by lunchtime.

As soon as Jennifer stepped through the door and saw the racks and racks of wedding dresses, she knew she was in trouble.

Jennifer tried to quiet and quell the rising terror in her stomach; she tried to fight back against the memories. She could get through this day, she swore to herself. Just a few hours (two hours tops!) and she be done and out of here.

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That afternoon, Vern rushed into Jack's office. "Jenny Girl had an incident today while on assignment for the TV station."

"What happened?"

"She was filming a fluff piece to put in the can for Valentine's Day. It was filming at a jewelry shop and a wedding dress store and she kind of lost it at the wedding dress place. Worst of all, the cameraman got it on tape."

"Lost it why? How?"

"The girl who was modeling the dress had her boyfriend there and during a filming break, they were playing around and the guy started undoing the girl's dress and Jenny Girl just started screaming at the guy to 'Stop!' It was bad. She smacked the guy. No one knew what to do."

Jack's voice was icy, concise. "I want that tape. Vern, you get me all the copies of that tape. You understand me?"

"Yeah, I'm on it."

"Vern, I'm serious. Call in any markers, empty out petty cash. Whatever is necessary. I don't want some reporter throwing a Super Bowl party and showing that to fifty close friends as part of the entertainment. I definitely don't want Alamain getting a copy. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Thanks. I'm counting on you, Vern." Jack pointed at the office door. "Can you grab that?"

Jack went over to his desk and dialed up Dan, Jennifer's boss at WATB.

"Hi Dan, how's it going?"

"You're calling about Jennifer," Dan guessed. "Look, she was completely unprofessional. I'm not sure how to move forward with her."

"Look just give her a few days off to pull herself together. She's been taking Emilio's murder really hard. It's been less than two weeks. At the wedding shop, it just brought back her wedding day to Emilio. She's in mourning."

After a long pause, Dan relented, "Okay, I'll call her and tell her that I'll give her three days off and that only because she's done such a stellar job. I hope you realize that the only reason I'm discussing her with you is because you're publisher of the Spectator. I normally don't discuss personnel issues with boyfriends."

"I got it Dan. I promise I'll throw my next big scoop your way."

"Very well. Don't call me again if she has any repeat performances though," Dan warned.

"Understood," Jack hung up and left the office.

Jack raced over to Jennifer's loft and knocked on her door repeatedly, "Jennifer? Jennifer? I know you're in there. Please open up."

Jennifer slid the door open and she looked lost, defeated.

Jack stepped forward immediately, "How are you? Please don't send me away."

"I'm probably fired."

Jack shook his head, "I called Dan and fixed things."

Jennifer looked up, instantly alert, "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. I told him you were feeling bad about Emilio."

"Oh God, poor Emilio. He's dead now and I can't even get out of my head long enough to mourn him. I was so awful to him last year. I used him; I was such a tease to him."

"Jennifer, no you weren't."

"You're just saying that because you benefited and we ended up together. Maybe I did get what I deserved."

Jack realized she was talking about the rape in that moment—this was going too far.

Despite their unspoken agreement that the topic was restricted, forbidden, verboten, he couldn't just let her think something so god-awful and wrong. "No woman deserves to get raped, Jennifer."

She looked up, surprised he had said that. He had said the word. He had actually broken down that wall.

She looked back down and started speaking very softly, "I'm sorry. Someone else…had…me. You were the only person that I wanted to be with in my whole life. That's why I waited until you. I wanted it to be you—and only you—for me…for always. That's all gone now. We were cheated out of that. I—I cheated on you."

Jack very slowly, cautiously moved towards her. He held his hands aloft in front of him, signaling that he was going to touch her. She didn't shy away or discourage him so he took that as assent. He cupped her face with both of his palms, his thumbs resting on her cheeks beneath her eyes.

"Jennifer, you make love with your eyes, not your body. You taught me that in the cave. I foolishly thought, arrogantly thought that day that I was going to be teaching you, but you taught me so much more. That love, that the union of souls, comes not from the body, but from the eyes, from the heart, the spirit. I realized that day in the cave that it was also my first time making love. With you and only with you. It wasn't my first time having sex I know, but all those other times before count for nothing when compared to everything that _you_ taught _me_ in the cave."

Jack's voice started to break. They were here in Jennifer's loft, unfortunately standing five feet away from her couch, which of course reminded him of another couch. That whole time, Kayla had looked away. Kayla had been disgusted and determined to hide her feelings during her whole ordeal by looking away from him.

"I am sure," Jack continued, "that despite everything that he took, or tried to take rather, that you gave him nothing. You offered him nothing. You probably couldn't even look at him. I am still the only man you've made love too. I am so sorry for what you are going through, but it changes nothing between you and me—for me at least."

Jennifer nodded and backed up from him; his hands that had been on her face that whole time fell back to his sides.

"Can you talk about it?" he asked. "It's time."

 _It's time._ Jennifer gave a rueful smile. She had said the same thing to him in the cave.

"Jennifer, I—I hope that we get through this. I still want to marry you and have our happy life together—if that's still what you want as well. I'm not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever again. But to get from here to there; to get to that happy point in the future, we have to get through this now. It has to be spoken. It has to be said aloud."

Jennifer shook her head and walked over to the stairs; she sat down on the third step. She didn't say anything and Jack waited.

"It was the day of the wedding," Jennifer began, only slightly faltering. Her voice was soft, but clear, like she was a storyteller and relating someone else's story. He supposed that was the only way she could get through it. He also noticed that she said 'day of the wedding' not 'my wedding day' like any happy bride would under normal circumstances. She needed to dissociate herself as far as possible from that day.

"It was the day of the wedding," Jennifer repeated. "He tore the wedding dress off of me," she looked up at him and Jack understood that was the catalyst for the incident in the wedding dress shop earlier today. He pictured Lawrence doing that; roughly ripping the expensive dress. He imagined the fear in her eyes as it was happening and as she was struggling on that slippery slope down to hell.

Jack walked over and sat next to her on the stairs. "Was it more than once?" Jack hated asking, hated jumping ahead, but ever since learning the truth he had tortured himself wondering the extent and scope of that pig's depravity. Had it been more than once; had there been more than Lawrence?

Jennifer shook her head. She was glad that they were sitting side by side, close but not quite touching. If she was going to get through this retelling, then she needed to just say it, get the words out, but not see his reactions. She knew it needed to be said, but saying it was going to be one of the hardest tasks of her life. She knew the details were going to hurt him, would hurt like a thousand shallow knife cuts. He needed to know her reality. He needed to know what they were up against. He needed to hear the full ugly truth.

"I'll never forget the wedding dress laying in tatters on the floor of his bedroom; ill-used and discarded, stained with drops of my blood. It looked like I felt. I couldn't believe the change in him—even though he had already threatened me and I knew he had kidnapped Frankie. I didn't know where you were, but I knew he must've done something to you too because you would have been there if you could. He changed; something switched over and he was no longer the civilized, refined, mannered person I had seen up until then.

"He started ripping my clothes, getting through the several layers of clothing. When he put his hands on my bare skin, I was panicking. I was terrified. I couldn't breathe well and I couldn't see well. My eyes were filling with tears and he had my hands gripped up over my head so I couldn't wipe them away. I was screaming; screaming for someone to hear me. I was begging him to stop hurting me. But he didn't care. He pulled off my wedding veil and put that in my mouth to gag me. I felt like I was going to throw up, but I had to control it because I was worried that he would hurt me more—that he would punish me for being so uncouth as to vomit on him while he was raping me."

Jennifer put her hand up to her throat, remembering that terrifying moment that Lawrence's hand had been there, "I tried thinking about the Lord's Prayer. I tried concentrating on that, focusing on remembering the words, reciting the words, instead of what he was doing to my body. I got through it four times. That's how long it lasted from when I started thinking 'Our Father, who art in Heaven…' until he was done. But each time when I came to the 'As we forgive those who trespass against us' part, I just couldn't say those words. I skipped over them every time.

"You were right earlier. I did try to look away. To not let him see me. To not allow that final violation. He was killing part of me. I recognize that now and these last weeks have been me in a period of mourning as I dealt with the part of me that he killed. He did that. There's part of me that I won't ever be able to get back. I guess that has to happen—part of you has to die in order to be able to endure in that moment.

Jennifer paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut tight. "I remember—when the…frequency increased and I knew he was…finishing. I remember hoping that meant it was almost over. I glanced at him; I allowed myself one glance in that instant. I wanted to see what he was feeling in that moment when we are all at our most unguarded and unshielded. I didn't see he was human, feeling pleasure or release. I saw him as a monster. He was looking victorious, exuberant almost cocky in his power, like a wolf towering over his captured prey.

"He loosened his grip from my wrists, rolled off of me, and went to sleep. Like he had done a hard day's work. Like he deserved to relax then. I stumbled out of bed, desperate to be away from him. I went into my own room, locked the door—like that could keep him out. I took a long, long shower. I could still feel his hands; I could still feel him. No matter how hot I made the water, no matter how hard I scrubbed, no matter how long I scrubbed. I gave myself bruises from scrubbing so hard, but it didn't help. I felt so alone and broken.

"I remember before this happened to me, I've heard other girls, other women, say after they had been raped, that they felt like they were ruined. And I remember thinking at the time how ridiculous that sounded. Of course they weren't ruined! Nothing their rapist did could ever ruin them, I thought. But in that shower, I finally understood what they meant. Or how it meant for me. I did feel ruined. I felt like I wasn't a person anymore—that my humanity had been murdered and from that day onward, I would just be this mere shell of the woman I once was.

"I stayed up that night for long hours, scared that he would enter into my room, not knowing how to move forward in my life. I finally just fell asleep from exhaustion. The next morning, I kept dreaming that you had come to me and were rescuing me. But in the dream, you became him and my rescue turned to another nightmare. And then I woke up and it was him and he was actually in my room. He had the audacity to tell me that I had played a dangerous game with him the night before and I had gotten off easy. I couldn't believe it; he cruelly raped me and said I'd gotten off easy! He even told me that in his grandfather's time, I would be severely punished for not being a virgin on my wedding night.

"A week later, I got my period; I was never so happy to get my period in all my life. I didn't know how I would have coped, how I would manage, if he had gotten a baby on me. Back here in Salem, he told me that I couldn't get an annulment because technically the marriage had been consummated. He threatened to tell everyone what he did, like he wasn't ashamed at all. He told me that I would never get a divorce unless I convinced Frankie to hand over the Von Leuschner fortune. He raped me and wants to be compensated! He raped me precisely so he _could_ be compensated! I hate him. I never thought I could hate anyone. I didn't even hate Ernesto Toscano even after everything he put us through last summer; I pitied him more than anything else. But I hate Lawrence more than I've ever hated anyone ever in this life."

Jennifer brought her fingers to her lips, silently telling him that she was done with her story—for now. Jack didn't say anything; the words would come later. They just stayed like that, sitting side-by-side on the stairs. For now, he just put his arm around her and leaned her head down, resting on his shoulder. She let them stay like that for a long time.

Throughout her retelling, Jack didn't interrupt. It was her story to tell and she needed to just be able to speak her piece without him butting in. However, his mind was in a torrent of anger towards Lawrence, profound heartache for Jennifer, and shame for himself that he could have ever done anything like what she just described. And it was so much worse for her than he imagined! The images were horrendous and heart-breaking. It was devastating and paralyzing. It was just beyond all comprehension.

 _Three years ago, that had been him._

Jennifer's blood was on the wedding gown, she said. He had stuffed the veil in her mouth to stop her screaming, she said. He had murdered part of her soul, she said. She had scrubbed herself raw in the shower, she said. She had been frightened about a baby, she said. He told her she got off easy, she said.

The comparison with himself was natural, obvious, but still he inwardly recoiled. He did say 'I'm sorry' to Kayla that night. He wasn't _that_ monstrous, not like what Jennifer described, and yet…and yet rape is still rape.

 _That had been him._

No wonder she hadn't wanted to speak of it to him. He had never fully understood the impact, the depth of the resulting wounds. He wanted to flee; he wanted to escape from this loft and the ghosts of the past and the traumatic words ringing in his head. The story Jennifer had just told and the memories of three years before—Kayla's pleas, his determined assertion, 'I'm going to make love to you. I'm going to make love to you.'

 _That had been him._

It had happened the day of the wedding, in Lawrence's bedroom. He realized with a shudder that he had told her to go to that room and had never appeared. He had failed her that night and got himself captured. He was chatting with Francois while she was in hell.

 _Jennifer, dear God, where do we go from here?_

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There was a knock at the door. Jennifer didn't want to see anybody. "Who is it?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"It's Kayla, I came with some stuff about Stephanie's birthday party," she called through the door.

Jack cringed. Not Kayla. Not today, not with all these infernal images bouncing around his head.

"I'll ask her to leave?" Jack asked.

Jennifer nodded so Jack rose from the steps and went to the door.

He cracked it open and stepped out into the hall. Kayla took a step back, reacting to the haunted look on Jack's face. Kayla glanced into the loft, realizing that Jennifer was going through a horrendous experience.

"This isn't a good time," Jack said, forlorn, trying to not reveal too much. Trying not to remember.

"Okay," Kayla said slowly and evenly, then called to Jennifer, "Anytime you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you." She handed over the papers and magazines she brought to Jack. "Remember, we're sisters," she said loudly so Jennifer could hear.

Jack gave her a confused, questioning look, "Well, almost, after your wedding," Kayla said to him as she briefly squeezed his hand and then she went to the elevator and shut the door.

Later, back at home, as Kayla was looking through bills and Steve was on the floor playing with Stephanie, she casually remarked, not looking up from her papers, "You might want to go check on Jack sometime soon."

Steve looked up at her, instantly curious, "Why? Has something happened?"

Kayla replied, trying to appear unaffected, "He might need to talk."

Steve stared at his wife's profile for a long time. Her capacity for forgiveness and understanding was boundless. He loved her so much. He stood up and went to give his wife a long kiss.

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Back at the loft, Jack and Jennifer had stayed sitting on those steps that led upstairs for a long time. After Kayla left and he deposited her papers on the kitchen counter, he came back and sat next to her, putting his arm around her.

Jack didn't know what to say. Please don't see me as that monster? Jack could never say that now. That it didn't change anything? Jack didn't know that. That he would destroy Lawrence? Jack wanted to annihilate him, but he couldn't promise it. That he was sorry it had happened the night of the wedding and that he had failed her by getting captured? How would 'sorry' change anything?

Anything he could think to say just felt so useless, so inadequate, so unhelpful, that all he could offer was himself, his presence, his arm around her. He hoped that it would be enough for now.

"Have you talked with anyone else?" Jack asked at last. He wasn't trying to deflect helping her onto someone else, but he knew she needed guidance that he couldn't provide.

Jennifer shook her head, "I called up a hotline once. The day after…I slapped you. I guess that is when Steve overheard me. I never told you this, but I after I learned that you knew, I went over and yelled at him, smacked him around some. He let me. Did he tell you?"

"Sort of," Jack hedged. He saw her hand resting on the step between them; he picked up her hand and interwove their fingers. "Can you…are you willing to go to counseling? Dr. Baker helped me last fall. I'll go with you…if you want." Jack remembered seeing Kayla going for counseling after what he had done. He had tried to bully her into not going because of how it might _appear_ for him. God, he couldn't help but be disgusted with how he had been sometimes.

Jennifer turned to face him, "You're willing to do that?"

Jack caressed her hand, "If it'll make it easier for you to go or if you just want me to go, I'll go."

They heard keys jangling in the door lock and Jennifer's grip tightened around Jack's hand.

Frankie slid the door open and spied them over on the steps. He noticed the intense energy between them and realized he had interrupted a serious moment for them.

He didn't want to disturb them, but he did live here and really didn't want to turn around and walk out again.

Jennifer was the first to rise. "Hi Frankie," she offered with fake brightness.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," he said, but the exchanged looks between Jack and Jennifer were drawing out the moment and making it quite awkward for him.

"No, it's fine," Jennifer appeased him. "I just had a bad day at work. I do think I need a shower," she turned to Jack. "If you don't mind…"

Jack stood up and gestured for her to go up the stairs, "No please."

"Okay," Jennifer quickly squeezed his hand as she went past him and up to her bedroom.

"Sorry again about that," Frankie repeated to Jack when Jennifer had closed her bedroom door.

"It's fine. You live here. You're allowed to come home." Jack used a tone to make sure Frankie knew he was being ridiculous. He tried not to, but old habits…

Frankie looked Jack up and down like he was debating about starting a topic, "Steve talked to me. I assume you know that."

Jack nodded. He remembered what Jennifer told him earlier-that Lawrence was angling to get the Von Leuschner fortune and holding the marriage over Jennifer's head as collateral. "Yes, Steve and I have a partnership of sorts," Jack didn't know Frankie well; he assumed he could be trusted but didn't want to reveal too much. "Just do everyone a favor, don't give Alamain any money under any circumstances and tell your sister that too. The last thing we need is to give Alamain more resources while depleting our own. Got it?"

Frankie agreed. "You got a plan? After what he did to Jennifer, my sister, and me, I'm anxious to take a tear at him myself."

"Working on a plan."

"I want in."

Jack shrugged, "We'll see. This may get dicey. We don't need boy scouts."

Frankie was about to say more, but Jack looked upstairs towards Jennifer's room. "Tell Jennifer I had to leave."

Jack knew that Jennifer wouldn't expect him to leave without saying goodbye, but he needed to get out of that place. The walls of the loft, especially when Jennifer wasn't in the room with him, were just closing in on him too fast.

Yes, Jack was definitely no boy scout. And he left wondering if maybe a boy scout was exactly what Jennifer needed instead of him.

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Jack pushed open his front door of his home. He looked around at the place, remembering all the conversations he had with Harper when they had lived here together as a family. What an illusion it had all been—Harper and Jack, Harper and Angelica, even Angelica and Jack. No real feelings and certainly not a real family. This was just a house, a mansion—not a home. Most of the time, he couldn't even tolerate to be in this part of the house; preferring to spend most of his time in residence up in his bedroom. Here in the living room, Abe had come to arrest him for Kayla's rape. Here, he had been put in handcuffs and read his Miranda rights. Here, later that night, after he had been released from jail and after he had gone to the loft to see Kayla and threaten her some more, he had came back to this room and justified the rape to Harper.

Jack poured a drink; he needed a double shot of good Kentucky bourbon. He would plot Lawrence's destruction tomorrow. Tonight, he intended to wallow in his own. He tore off the red wax seal from the bottle and poured out the amber liquid into his Tom Collins glass, doubling the intended double shot.

Before, though, there was something he must do. He grabbed the phone and punched in Vern's number. He wasn't still in the office, so he punched in his home number.

"Did you get all the tapes of Jennifer at the wedding store?" Jack asked as soon as he heard Vern's voice. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "That better not circulate around as Salem's version of the Rob Lowe video."

"It's done," Vern answered. "I'll show you the dollar amounts tomorrow, but I figured the money was secondary after Jenny Girl."

"Yes, thanks."

"Do you want the tapes?" Vern asked.

"No. I don't want to see them. Destroy them." He dropped the phone back in its cradle.

He looked at the bourbon in his left hand and drank it all down in two gulps; appreciating the burn as it went down his throat. He needed to feel something tonight. He needed to feel the pain of the burn of the alcohol. Jennifer had been in pain—physical, mental, emotional pain. Jack owed it to her to feel something of that pain. The physical pain would be the easiest for him to simulate—the mental and emotional pain he wanted to block out and he wanted to feel numb instead. He poured another glass and quickly downed its contents.

He looked at the empty glass and saw weakness. His weakness three years ago and thirty minutes ago when he had ducked out of Jennifer's place. She had gone upstairs for a quick shower and he took advantage of that opportunity to escape.

He played over in his mind what she had told him—how it had been for her. He heard her go through the horrific story and he re-experienced the self-loathing when he realized it had happened on the wedding day in Lawrence's room. It happened because he had made a plan to meet her in Lawrence's bedroom of all places. Jack had sent her there and of course she had gone there because she had trusted him. And in the wake of that decision, she had endured hell. Part of her was murdered. Before today, he had no idea how bad it truly was. He imagined it was Kayla telling her story, telling in equally graphic detail, how Jack had been on that awful night long ago.

Jack hurled his glass across the room. It hit the bookshelf and shattered into a thousand pieces. Jack liked that. He liked throwing the glass, he liked hearing it shatter, he liked watching the breakable glass break into tiny irrecoverable pieces. He liked seeing the shards of glass rain onto the carpet at the foot of the bookcase. He picked up another glass and tossed that, and another, and another, and another, and another. He threw all the glasses that were sitting on the bar; seventeen in all.

Damage done, glasses depleted; buzz and burn gone; Jack sank onto his couch. He realized he was sitting on a couch—not _the_ couch and not a couch in Jennifer's loft in the same spot as _the_ couch, but still a couch. He stood up, upended the couch and then collapsed in a nearby chair.

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Jennifer came downstairs; her hair up in a towel and wearing both a nightgown and a robe. "Where's Jack?" she asked Frankie who was in the kitchen microwaving a hotdog for dinner.

"Jack left," he said, trying to sound sympathetic.

Jennifer looked at the door. She pulled off the towel from her head and started running her fingers through her wet hair. She was disappointed, but not upset. She ran out on him at the Cheating Heart the other day after he had requoted the Shakespeare from his proposal; she shouldn't expect him to be perfect. He's trying, she knew.

Frankie abandoned his hotdog and walked her over to the couch. "Would you like to talk?"

She shook her head. "I'm kind of talked out right now."

Frankie reached up and pushed an errant hair out of her face, "I'd like to help if I can…"

Jennifer shook her head, "I'm not trying to shut you out. It's just that I'm dealing with something right now and I just don't really know how to—how to go on. Jack's helping. He really is helping me, but there are just parts of me that even he can't reach," Jennifer looked upstairs towards her bedroom, "I just want to go sleep for a long time and not wake up for months—not until this is all over. And that's what I'm really doing; I'm just kind of sleeping through my life. I want to go far, far forward to some time in the future when this doesn't feel so bad."

Frankie was feeling left out and feeling guilty about that, but knew that Jennifer was going through too much right now to be bothered with his petty jealousies.

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Steve noticed that Jack had left his front door ajar when he arrived at his house. He didn't hear anything so he slipped through the opened door. He saw the overturned couch and the giant pile of broken glass. Kayla had been right. Whatever she saw, whatever she knew, she knew that Jack would need him tonight.

Steve stood there for a long moment wondering what had happened. He looked at Jack; his feet were drawn up on the chair and he was just staring at his hands and hadn't even noticed Steve had come in here.

It could have been Lawrence walking in to his living room for all Jack knew. He should be more careful. With the photos yesterday, both Jack and Steve knew Lawrence was drawing battle lines again.

"Jack?" Steve finally said.

Jack looked up with dull eyes.

Steve picked up a chair and pulled it close. "What happened?"

"Nothing that didn't already happen," Jack said in a flat monotone, looking up at the ceiling, not at Steve.

Steve didn't want to play twenty questions. He knew the best way to break through his defenses, "Okay, why do you think Kayla told me to come see you tonight?"

That got Jack's attention. He looked at his brother. "She came to the loft. Jennifer didn't want to see anybody. I sent her away."

Steve rolled his eyes. This was going to have to get dragged out of him, "Okay, why didn't Jennifer want to see anybody?" Jack didn't answer. "Will you just talk to me?" Steve pushed.

Jack shook his head. "No."

"No? That's all you've got to say? Y'know, Stephanie's starting to talk now. She likes that word. 'No.' She's not even one yet. Can't you do better than your niece?"

"No," Jack answered.

"Fine. You change your mind, you know where I live." Steve rose and went to the door. He stood there for three minutes, hoping Jack would yield. "I'm walking out now," he said finally. He want to be there for his brother, but he wasn't going to be his frickin' doormat.

"Bye," Jack answered.

"Fine." Steve was gone.

"Fine," Jack echoed.

Jack sat there, remembering a conversation with Steve long ago, before he knew Steve was his brother. He was in the hospital after his fall off the roof and his body was rejecting Steve's donated kidney.

 _"Let me tell you something about Kayla. What you did ripped her heart out. Do you understand me? So now she's fighting for her life. She's fighting to get better and I'm fighting to be with her and to help her and to make her happy. And you better believe that one of these days, we're going to be together and we're going to be happy."_

After Steve left, Jack started talking to the walls about what he should have said to his brother, "Jennifer told me what Lawrence did to her. Told me every detail. How it destroyed her. How it sickened her. It ripped her heart out too."

The room was quiet. He was glad that his dads didn't visit him tonight. Sometimes, when you're in hell, it's good knowing that there are still lower levels of hell beneath you where you aren't visiting.


	9. Chapter 9

Song for this chapter: Metallica's Unforgiven.

Jack woke up the next morning in his bedroom with a renewed sense of purpose—not of hope—but with the determination to destroy Lawrence Alamain. He had stumbled upstairs sometime around 3:00 a.m. He quickly showered and got dressed. On his way out the door, he stopped off in the living room, scribbled out a note for his cleaning service and dropped it on the pile of broken glass: _Do not clean. It stays as it lay._

He went into his garage and supply shed. Besides the living room, those were two other places on the grounds he hardly ever went to. He grabbed the necessary materials and tools, and headed to his car. He didn't need Sheldon today.

He went over to Lawrence's house and talked the driver into taking a long break by handing over $500 and telling him that he was an old friend in Alamania and wanted to play a prank. He was going to be Lawrence's driver today. He had everything arranged. A long time ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never be violent again, except to defend somebody. However, after hearing what he had done to Jennifer yesterday, he just could not hold to that promise.

 _Today would be judgment day for Lawrence._

Jack climbed into the driver's seat of Lawrence's limousine and waited. He had borrowed Sheldon's hat and pulled it low over his face; that way Lawrence wouldn't recognize him if he spied him in the rearview mirror.

He spotted Lawrence and got out of the car to open up his door. This would be the most critical moment of discovery, but he counted on Lawrence's sense of entitlement and the high likelihood that he never bothered to look at his servants. Jack was correct; Lawrence never noticed the difference in his drivers.

Now safely ensconced in the car, with Lawrence under his control, Jack drove on the rural road. However instead of turning towards Salem, he turned the opposite direction, further into the country and towards the cabin he had rented a week ago and still had reserved and paid up for his use. His left hand was on the steering wheel; his right hand on a canister laying on the car seat next to him. It was ready to use at the moment of discovery.

"Driver?" Lawrence asked when he noticed they were going the wrong direction.

 _Idiot. Doesn't even know his driver's name?_ It was Taylor. Jack talked with him for three minutes and he knew Taylor's name.

The moment had come. Jack pulled the pin on the canister and tossed it in the back and then quickly raised the partition. Lawrence was trapped with the thick cloud of white gas in the back and Jack was safe driving up front, fairly well protected from the gas that was currently overwhelming the bastard in the back.

Ten more minutes and ten more miles and they had reached Jack's intended destination. He pulled around to the back side of the cabin. Jack got out and opened the back passenger door, allowing the remaining gas to disperse. When the fog had thinned enough, he saw Lawrence in the backseat, unconscious. He now had Lawrence completely under his control. Jack thought that this had almost been too easy. He had Lawrence and it had only required a few lies, a few dollars, and a few minutes.

Of course, Jack knew well that crimes themselves were usually very brief in duration compared to the aftermath. The wreckage of the few minutes of his crime against Kayla had gone on for months—years, really. Months later, Jennifer was still enduring the after effects of Lawrence's crime against her and Jack knew her pain would continue long after today. Jack didn't want to think of the consequences for what he was about to do. He didn't want to feel anything today.

Jack grabbed his supplies from the front passenger seat of the limousine and dropped them by a fire pit in the back. He pulled a wheelbarrow that had been stored at the cabin around to the back door of the limousine and pulled Lawrence's unconscious body as best he could into the wheelbarrow. It would be tough work, but he didn't have to go far with him.

Jack dumped Lawrence's body out of the wheelbarrow over by the fire pit. On either side of the fire pit were two metal poles, which Jack had guessed were intended as support columns for a rotisserie spit.

 _That's where Lawrence is going._

Jack tied up the man's legs directly to one of the metal poles and his arms were tied to a rope that he attached to the opposite metal pole. That side also had a pulley to help him hoist Lawrence up so that he was now suspended by his feet and wrists over the fire pit.

Lastly, Jack pulled out a knife and cut off Lawrence's overcoat, suit coat, and shirt and then used the knife to split open Lawrence's pants, unavoidably making tiny nicks into Lawrence as he proceeded from Lawrence's socks up to his torso. Jack liked seeing the tiny droplets of blood fall from those inadvertent cuts into the ashes of the fire pit below. He dumped the clothes by the fire pit and then held his knife poised over the man's boxers as he debated about them. No, he decided. Those would stay for now.

He went for kindling, matches, and several buckets of water. It was cold outside in the crisp January morning. He could see his breath. A fire would be so warming…

Everything ready now, Jack picked up one of the buckets and dumped the water on Lawrence's head. Lawrence stirred and jerked, but didn't awaken. Jack pulled an ammonia vial from his pocket and broke it under the filthy pig's nose.

That brought Lawrence around. The jerk jerked around, but his movement was limited obviously by being bound by his feet and hands and suspended in mid-air.

"What the hell?" Lawrence asked instinctually, looking around, desperate to understand what was happening. The curious, completely unfamiliar sensation of being suspended in mid-air, the painful feeling of his body weight pulling at the ropes around his legs and wrists. Those alien, foreign physical sensations called his attention first. Then his attention turned to the cold biting at his nearly stripped body. Then the cold, cold eyes of his captor.

Jack.

Jack was looking down at him with scornful, passionless eyes. He remembered how Jennifer had described Lawrence in the culminating moment of him raping her: _I saw him as a monster. He was looking victorious, exuberant almost cocky in his power, like a wolf towering over his captured prey._

Jack hoped that Lawrence was thinking the same thing now.

"Jack, what are you doing? You can't get away with this." Jack said nothing. "You know if something happens to me that you'll be the prime suspect. Even if the law doesn't get you, then my men will. Not just you, but Jennifer, your brother Steve, his wife and your ex-wife Kayla, your niece Stephanie, your mother Josephine. In my country, we know how to extract vengeance."

Jack leaned down and spoke in Lawrence's ear. "You only rely on your men because you pay them. If you aren't around to pay them, then you are nothing to them. I have money. Francois Von Leuschner has money. Money to pay them for loyalty to us instead of loyalty to you. I'm not worried about them. You have no family left. And your father Leopold died trying to stop you from your vengeance; he didn't participate in it. You are quite alone. I don't think there will be anyone seeking retribution on your behalf."

"You're not a killer."

"I killed my father. The man who raised me my whole life because he was trying to hurt people I care about. You think I wouldn't kill you for the same reason?" It seemed so strange to Jack that he could speak so casually and cavalierly about Harper's death. At the time, it had been so cataclysmic and now, just a few short months later, it meant so little compared to everything Jennifer had gone through.

"That wasn't cold-blooded. This isn't you." Lawrence needed to turn this around. Convince him, play on the man's past and insecurities. And Lawrence could be convincing. Yes, he had made a lifetime work out of fooling people—Leopold, Carly, Jennifer.

Jack liked standing over him; liked the feeling of being all-powerful over another person—but only because this person deserved it so completely. "You shouldn't have messed with the people I care about. You have no idea what I'm capable of. But you will. Thank you for reminding me of all the people that I need to defend from you. Gives me more reason now for what must be done."

Lawrence tried another tactic, "Jack, cut me down now and I will leave Salem today. I promise I'll never come back."

"Tell me that you'll leave Jennifer alone."

"I'll never speak to her again."

"Tell me that Jennifer will get her divorce."

"Today, I swear it."

"Tell me that you never raped her."

Lawrence's eyes darted back and forth. Lawrence was stuck; he knew whether he denied or admitted it that Jack would get even more angry. Lawrence went with this gut, born out of lifetime habit—deny, lie, obfuscate until the danger had passed.

"I didn't."

Jack nodded and started building the fire in the pit beneath Lawrence.

Lawrence got even more petrified. He had taken a risk and it backfired disastrously. He tried salvaging it.

"I mean, I didn't mean to. Things just got carried away with the champagne and everything. _You of all people_ should know what that's like." Lawrence was shivering from the cold and from his crescendoing fear.

Jack didn't comment on Lawrence's words, only on his shivering. "You cold? See if you like this." Jack took a match, ignited it and held it beneath the kindling. The fire was low and slow, but it was there.

"Jack, I swear…" Lawrence sounded desperate; his cool mocking defensive veneer was gone.

"Shut up! Shut up, you filthy pig."

Lawrence, for once did what he was told, and he shut up.

Jack kneeled down close to Lawrence's head. He was close to him and wanted to make sure that Lawrence understood every word.

"You said that I, of all people, should know what it's like. Well maybe that is true. And maybe I know better than most people, how much you need to be stopped and how much you need to be taught, now that you are under my power and my control. Now that I can do with your body whatever I want."

"Jack, I—."

"I said shut up. Every time you interrupt, I throw more kindling on that fire beneath you. Understand?"

Lawrence nodded.

"When Steve learned what I had done to Kayla, he called me a filthy pig. And he was right. So that's why I have you here now—up on a pig spit where you belong. I know what you need. I was what you are. And so that is what we are going to be doing here today. You, filthy pig, will be cleansed by fire and water. Understand?"

Tears were in Lawrence's eyes now, but he nodded.

The tears made Jack even more mad. Jack never cried. Never. He would not allow Lawrence to do it in his presence.

"Stop your crying or I will give you something to cry about." Jack held his knife near the man's boxers, the implied threat obvious.

"So like I was saying, when my brother learned the truth about what I had done. That I had committed this vile, disgusting rape, he called me a filthy pig. Which was true. And he tossed my cowardly butt off the roof of a building. Fell three stories. Fell onto the hard concrete. Lost my kidney. Almost lost my life. And that would have been justice for Kayla—in its own way." Jack stood over him and looked into his Lawrence's eyes, looked into the eyes of his former self. "Taught me a lesson that I'll never forget. Was a huge favor for me actually. And that's what I'm doing for you."

Of course Jack knew that the fall off the building had been an accident and not Steve's fault, but it was far more effective storytelling with the revision.

Although Jack hadn't added more kindling to the fire, the wind was strong and fierce and had made the fire stronger as well. The flames were growing higher and almost reaching him. Occasionally, an errant flame would be higher than the rest and would contact Lawrence's bare skin. He would instinctually yell, while recoiling or jerking away from the flames.

Jack liked the show; he didn't want to like it, but it felt like justice. "You can yell all you want. No one will come for you. Just like none of your employees came for Jennifer when she was screaming."

"Oh God, Jack, please! I'm sorry! Tell her I'm sorry."

Jack looked down at Lawrence from above as a few flames reached up and burned him again. Jack knew those eyes. Those were the eyes of a bully and a coward—eyes that would be hard and unfeeling for anyone else's suffering and yet weak and pain-filled if he was affected by so much as a paper cut. Yes, he knew those eyes. Jack used to have those eyes.

"You're not sorry. But you will be."

Jack straightened up, crossed his arms, and waited.

Jack continued to wait, occasionally looking over Lawrence to check the fire. He circled round to avoid the smoke and held out his hands over the fire to warm them. Lawrence was coughing from the smoke and had his eyes tight to keep back the tears; he knew Jack had been serious with his threat if he saw Lawrence crying. The pain was sharp and intense. The fear of not knowing was worse. Would Lawrence die today? If he did survive, how many scars would Jack leave him with? If he did survive, it would be war. An absolute fight to the death. Lawrence bit his lip from the pain and the blood rolled down his cheek and sizzled in the fire below.

Finally, Jack grabbed one of the waiting buckets of water and poured it onto the fire, effectively dousing most of the flames, and the sizzling and smoke overwhelmed Lawrence's senses.

Lawrence scrunched up his eyes and was about to say 'Thank you,' but when he opened them, Jack had his knife out again. Jack held the knife on Lawrence's chest, dragging it along his chest and up to his throat. There was no pressure so Lawrence wasn't cut. Lawrence didn't bleed from any cuts. Jack did want to make him bleed though. Jennifer had bled; she described her blood getting on the wedding gown though she didn't say how Lawrence had made her bleed. He wanted to know, but knew he wouldn't get the truth from Lawrence and wouldn't allow Lawrence this satisfaction of knowing something that Jack wanted to know.

Jack finally released Lawrence from the very great threat of having the knife at his throat.

Jack moved the knife close to Lawence's left eye. "My brother lost his eye in a fight. Got a glass eye and had that second eye irreparably damaged by a greedy, ruthless jerk—someone who is a lot like you actually. I could easily gouge out both of your eyes with this knife. It would be messy, but you would never be able to hurt anyone or any woman ever again. I hope the memory of what you saw of Jennifer will be worth never seeing anything ever again."

"Jack, please, I'm begging you. Please?"

Jack's knife was still poised at Lawrence's left eye. "Jennifer begged you, she said. Didn't stop you."

"Then be better than me, please. I'll do anything."

Jack held the knife for several moments longer, staring at Lawrence, regarding him. He then moved the knife up the metal pole holding the rope that had secured Lawrence's hands. Jack cut the knot tying the rope to the pole and the upper half of Lawrence came crashing to Earth. Lawrence coughed again; he had trouble breathing from the smoke remaining from the extinguished fire and the ashes that were sent airborne as he dropped to the ground His legs were still suspended up on the opposite metal pole. Lawrence was still bound, still tethered to the poles, but he was no longer held taut. Jack kicked his body away from the still smoldering coals.

"I'm not done with you yet Lawrence."

"Jack, please no more. Have mercy. Show me your mercy and how—and how to be a better man. Like you."

Jack rolled his eyes. Those were just words. The punishment and penance were now—the atonement wouldn't come until later, if it ever came at all. "Have mercy, why? I suppose you showed mercy on Jennifer because you only raped her once?"

Jack got a burlap sack and dunked it in the water in the third bucket until it was soaking wet. He held it over Lawrence's face and then picked up the bucket and poured more water through it into Lawrence's mouth. He had learned this trick from his time in Washington, hearing Harper discuss with other U.S. Senators about the government tactics to get people to talk. The whole procedure was supposed to simulate drowning. The wet cloth over the face limited the person's breath. Yes, Jack had definitely learned a lot from his father.

As per procedure, he stopped for a moment and sat the bucket aside. Lawrence spit out some of the water and was gasping, grappling for air.

"You told Jennifer the morning after you raped her that she played a dangerous game and got off easy. If you really think she got off easy after what you did to her, then let's just see how you feel when I'm done with you. I don't play games."

Lawrence couldn't speak. The pain from the burns on his back, the struggle to gasp for air—it was all just too much.

Jack let him have a long enough break. He picked up the bucket and started pouring water again down Lawrence's throat. Lawrence struggled against him, fought in vain, with his hands bound above him. Lawrence had held Jennifer's hands over her head so she couldn't wipe away her tears, Jack remembered her saying.

Jack knew it was time for another break and sat down the bucket; the idea was to simulate drowning, not actually do it. Lawrence had started to spasm for a few seconds and then his body went rigid, unmoving. No, he didn't want to actually kill Lawrence, just give him a taste of his own medicine. Now worry flooded through Jack. He tossed the bucket far away and pulled off the soaked burlap sack from Lawrence's face.

But it wasn't Lawrence's face; it was his own. He was staring, incomprehensibly, at his own lifeless face laying tied up and unmoving on the ground. Jack scrambled to his feet and recoiled back five feet not understanding the image before him.

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Jack woke up startled. It took him a moment to get his bearings. He was still in his living room and it was still dark outside. He had fallen asleep in the chair that he had been sitting in since Steve had come and gone. The couch was still overturned and there was still the pile of glass. There was no note to the cleaning lady on top of the glass like he had remembered doing—dreamt doing, actually.

 _He had been dreaming._

The whole thing with Lawrence had been a dream. Kidnapping Lawrence, stripping him, the fire and water torture had all been in his mind. However, the dream also served as a stark reminder for Jack of what he was capable of within the darkest recesses of his soul.

Jack realized the significance of the dream. He wasn't just fighting against Lawrence, he was battling against his former self. All those things he said to Lawrence in his dream, he was saying to the Jack from three years ago. He wanted to punish that Jack, torture that Jack, get justice from that Jack too. He wanted justice for Kayla as much as justice for Jennifer. Lawrence was providing too much of a mirror into Jack's past. He wanted to destroy that old Jack as much as he wanted to destroy Lawrence. But also, he knew that anything he tried to do to Lawrence, he would do to himself as well.

The dream was also a warning. He had his fathers dwelling inside his mind and soul. He battled them and their legacy constantly. His fathers had victimized innocent women and they never fought against their worst selves, they had never tried to control the worst parts of themselves. They indulged their demons and now their demons had taken up residence in Jack's mind.

 _He must win this fight against his fathers._

 _He must win this fight against Lawrence._

 _How could he do both?_

He was determined to destroy Lawrence Alamain—but would not allow himself to be destroyed alongside him. He needed to be able to have a life with Jennifer when this was all through. Jack had to give Jennifer that choice. He knew that Jennifer would choose a life with him over complete and total revenge over Lawrence. And yet, and yet, he could not allow Lawrence to escape unscathed. Too much had happened. Too much was known. He doubted that Lawrence would ever follow Jack's path and would ever need redemption and forgiveness as Jack had. He couldn't rely on Lawrence's conscience to bring him justice as it had for Jack. More likely, Lawrence was like Harper, always convinced in his own superiority, entitlement, and self-righteousness. Only prison and death stopped Harper.

What should Jack do now? The darkness, the hatred, the anger that lurked deep within Jack and that he had buried deep was resurfacing. He wanted it, he needed it to destroy Alamain, but could he control it? Could he resurrect his fathers' demons, use those demons to destroy Alamain? But could that be tamed so he could destroy Alamain the right way and not destroy himself and his future with Jennifer in the process?

He remembered a saying of Confucius that 'Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves' meaning that one of the graves is for oneself. Jack wanted instead to embark on a journey of justice and dig only one grave—the one for Lawrence. He hoped he could do that.

He stumbled upstairs to his bedroom to sleep for the rest of the restless night. When golden morning light finally streamed through his bedroom window, he got up and prepared for the day. On his way out the door, he stopped off in the living room, scribbled out the same note for his cleaning service that he had dreamed about doing the night before and dropped it on the pile of broken glass: _Do not clean. It stays as it lay._

He went into his garage and supply shed, grabbed the necessary materials and tools, and headed to his car. He didn't need Sheldon today.

While Jack was driving, he couldn't stop thinking about his dream. Most of the times in his dreams, his fathers were there and they were taunting him and teasing him and telling him how weak he was and just generally discouraging him against his fight to reform his life. In this dream, he was the one with the power and in control. He was no longer fighting against his darker nature, but instead he was indulging in it, glorying in it, and simultaneously feeling so superior to the person he was torturing.

That worried him. He had enjoyed it too much. His fathers weren't taunting him these days. His fathers were awakening. He needed to get a grip. He needed Steve. He needed to act normal and hopefully he would then feel normal too.

Jack drove over to Steve and Kayla's place, bound for the porch swing, not the front door. He was intent on fixing the swing, replacing the wooden slats with the ones he had kicked out and broken the other day. That was the credo he lived by these days, if you destroy it, then you must fix it. At least fix what he could, he could never fully fix things with Kayla. The scars were too deep and too great. And there are some things that may possibly be repaired and still workable, but never fully fixed.

Kayla heard the commotion and came out. She smiled when she saw Jack figuring out how to fix the swing; she had never seen him with a screwdriver or drill ever.

"I appreciate you fixing that, but Steve was going to get to it this weekend," she said to call his attention. "You will really do anything to avoid coming in our house, won't you?" she said it with a smile. She hoped too that the past and unspoken tension didn't need to be embedded in _every single sentence_ ever spoken between them. She hoped sometimes they could just be brother and sister-in law.

Jack looked up and saw her mood and intentions, "Well, the next time I feel the need to break something, I want it here and ready."

She wanted to ask about Jennifer, but didn't. He wanted to ask her a hundred questions that had been raised in his mind since last night, but didn't. He wanted to ask her if he really did rip her heart out like Steve had told him in the hospital all those years ago. He hadn't really believed it at the time; he had dismissed Steve's comment as his attempt at being 'poetic.' After hearing Jennifer last night though, he knew it to be true and didn't really need to ask Kayla to confirm it.

"Do you want Steve?" Kayla asked.

"Please."

"I'll go get him," Kayla turned to go back in the house. Jack called her attention again.

"Kayla, I—." Jack stopped. Anything he could say would be crossing over into forbidden territory or would just sound incredibly trite. He remembered the long ago conversation he had with Steve in the hospital in the aftermath of the rape when Steve had avowed that they would get past the rape and that he and Kayla would be happy one day. That hope had been fulfilled. Jack thought of a better way to say how he felt, he lifted his hands and started using sign language.

 _"Kayla, there are so many things I would like to say, but for good reason will remain unsaid. However, by telling you this way, I hope it's a better way for my spirit to reach your spirit. And though this may seem trite, I mean it with profound sincerity. I am truly glad for the happiness you have now and that you were able to find that happiness with Steve."_

Kayla was stunned that Jack knew sign language and then surprised at the content of his message. She knew he would feel compelled to say something to her with all the turmoil he was witnessing within Jennifer and it was bringing up comparison and memories of the past. She was okay with this transgression. All things considered, what he had said wasn't as imposing or nosy as she had feared.

 _"When did learn to sign?"_ Kayla signed back.

 _"Three years ago."_

Kayla nodded, processing everything, not commenting on the implications. The conversation appeared over so she said aloud, "I'll go get Steve."

A minute later, Steve was at the door. His arms were crossed; he wasn't going to make this easy for Jack. "Steve, I just wasn't in a talkative mood last night."

"And now?"

"Now neither, but I want to get Alamain. I really just can't let him get away with everything." Remembering his dream from last night, remembering the depths he was capable of, he was grateful to have Steve to keep him from straying too far down that dark path and to keep him from sinking too far into oblivion. "However, I know it needs to be done the right way so that Jennifer and I still have a chance for a life together when this is all through."

Steve sat down on the front steps; he knew how revenge could take over one's life. He learned that lesson well from everything that had happened with Bo. "He has the ambition and the money to do a lot of damage. With Alamain, take the money or kill the ambition or both. He reminds me a lot of Victor Kiriakis, ruthless and cruel. But Victor has family now—Isabella for instance, that is taming him. A year ago, he had kidnapped Kayla as leverage for Marina's key, but six months later you had to be aligned with him and work with him to get off that island and protect Isabella."

Jack was impatient; he wanted Alamain neutralized now. Steve continued, "Well, Franklin isn't going to hand over the Von Leuschner money so at least Alamain isn't going to get any richer. I talked with Bo and he doesn't really know if Carly is still a weakness for Alamain."

"I was thinking about what you said the other day at the Heart and that I can't dump all the responsibility of what I did onto my psycho dads. They are a convenient representation and symbol of the darkness in me, but everything I did was me. It was all me. I think I can understand Lawrence better than anyone else and with your help, I can bury him—just as I buried the part of me that was him."


	10. Chapter 10

Jack knocked on the loft door and then called out to Jennifer. When she opened the door, he immediately apologized, "I'm sorry I ran out on you last night. Things were just… I hope you didn't think I was running out on us…"

Jennifer shook her head. "No. I've learned well these past weeks about running away. You're not trying to running away from me or from us. If you're like me, then you're trying to run away from yourself."

Jack slowly nodded. She did understand. "I meant what I said the other night. I'd like to go to counseling with you, if you like. Just name the time and I'll be there."

Still standing in the doorway, she smiled and put her arms around his neck. "You really are amazing to me. I'm really lucky to have you in my life."

Jack couldn't accept the compliment, "I'm not. I'm just a messed-up guy who really needs help and I'd prefer using the group rate."

Jennifer smiled. Her first real smile since walking into the wedding dress shop the day before. She grabbed Jack's hand and tried to pull him into the loft.

Jack didn't budge. He wasn't ready to come back into the loft. The ghosts and the memories were hovering too close. "Let's go out instead."

Jennifer understood and nodded. They needed to find neutral territory.

Jack looked down at her hand in his. "Good. I just want to be with you and stay like this," he lifted both their hands in explanation. Jack knew his demons had no power over him when Jennifer was close at hand. "Let's go away somewhere. Dan gave you several days off. Let's just get away from here. I don't want to be here at the loft or over at my place. I don't care where—cabin in the country or a hotel in Chicago. Just name it."

Jennifer's initial reaction was to be shy and not want to go away with Jack. She remembered the disastrous scene in the cabin where she'd been overwhelmed by all the pressure. She knew though that Jack hadn't known the truth then. She wanted to go away with him and she knew there was nothing to be shy about. Now, Jack knew all and accepted all. There was no one else that she would rather be with. She felt most like herself with Jack and knew being with him was the best way to restore normality to her life. "I agree. Let's go away together for a few days. There's no place I'd rather be that with you."

Jack smiled, "Your choice: country or city?"

Jennifer squeezed his hand tight. "Country. I only want to see you."

Jack glanced upstairs, "Can you go pack then? I have my car downstairs. I'm ready now."

Jennifer nodded and scurried upstairs, excited about their time away together.

Fifteen minutes later, she had her suitcase in his trunk and ready to set out. Jack had arranged for a different cabin than the one they had visited just a few weeks earlier. He wanted a place with no memories and, remembering his nightmare about Lawrence, one without any bad connotations.

They set off together in near silence until they reached the outskirts of Salem. "Jennifer, I'm sorry again about leaving the way I did yesterday and not phoning or anything. It was a lot to take in, but I am here for you. Please don't think that I'm not. I want you to count on me and trust me. Trust me that you can tell me anything."

Jennifer scooted next to him on the bench seat of the car. He glanced at her, but needed to keep his eyes on the road. He kept his left hand on the steering wheel and wrapped his right arm around her shoulder.

Jennifer liked feeling the closeness they had in that moment. She felt safe with him; she felt safe from the world and felt safe that he would never hurt her. "I do trust you. You don't need to apologize and certainly not apologize twice." Jennifer paused a moment before asking, "Do you want to talk about yesterday?"

Jack glanced at her; he really did need to keep his concentration on the road, "I would, but not at this moment. I'm still trying to process it all and trying to decide where I'm going to put all the hatred I have toward Lawrence. I wanted so much to go over to his place and throttle the guy." Jack bit his lip; that last statement was quite an understatement, but he didn't want to reveal any more of his private hell to her. She was enduring enough. "Regardless, I just want to thank you for trusting me enough to tell me how it was. That means the world to me. I know what it cost you." Jack paused, wary of asking her to speak about it again, knowing how difficult it was for her. "How about you? How are you feeling?"

Jennifer paused before answering and Jack started regretting that he'd asked. "Relieved," she said finally.

Jack was surprised at that. "Relieved?"

"Ever since it happened, I was scared to tell you. Worried about how you'd react. Worried that you wouldn't love me anymore or wouldn't want to be with me anymore." Jack started to object, so Jennifer went on quickly. "You never did anything to make me think that, but I thought it anyway. I felt guilty. I felt responsible."

Jack slowed down the car and pulled over to shoulder of the road. He put the car in park and turned to face her fully. "You're not responsible. Please believe me, understand that, know that. Once Lawrence made that decision, you couldn't have done anything to stop it. The responsibility is on him—not on you."

Jennifer picked up his hand and softly, absent-mindedly stroked it. "I'm realizing that. And you're helping me. I can't tell you how much it means to me that I've felt your unconditional love and support ever since you've learned the truth. It has helped me so much."

"I will always be here for you. If you decide that you can't go forward with your life…with me, because of…my past, then that will be okay. But it will be your choice."

"My choice is you. I want to marry you. That will never change!" Jennifer implored him with her eyes to see that truth within her. "Ever since…it happened, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was holding my breath for all these months scared of how you…and everyone else would think of me when you learned the truth. Now that you know and you're still here for me and never blamed me, now I don't feel so ashamed. Lawrence afterwards always tried to make me feel ashamed and I was too ashamed to tell you or my Grandmother or anyone else. Now I can feel like I can…exhale…and breathe again. Now I feel like I can be honest to everyone else in my life. You did that for me. And I love you now more than ever."

Impulsively, Jennifer leaned up and kissed Jack softly, quickly on the cheek. Jack reached up with his right hand, his left hand still resting on the steering wheel, and caressed her cheek. Part of his palm brushed against her lips and she kissed it. Jack smiled; he'd endure anything and fight anything for this amazing woman. _All I have and all I want is right here within my hands._

Jennifer reached up and took his hand and brought it down to her lap. "I've thought a lot the last several days about what you told me about Plato's Allegory of the Cave. I know it's a metaphor and can mean different things for different people. I was thinking about how ever since…the rape…that I've been living in shadows and in the darkness where Lawrence was lurking. Lawrence liked me there because I would be easier to control. You helped me too; you helped unlock Lawrence's chains. I haven't wanted to think about…the rape..or talk about it. I just wanted to pretend it didn't exist and that I could just resume my life and pretend that it never happened. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't get close to you. I couldn't jump into your arms and scream 'Yes' when you gave me that amazing proposal on the rooftop. You've unlocked Lawrence's chains and gave me the courage to take off my blinders, turn around, and really see the awful wreckage that he tried to create in my life. And seeing it, I'm finding the strength to not keep it a shameful secret and to fight back. I don't want him to get away with this."

Jack was struggling to believe Jennifer's words; he still just couldn't see himself as that type of man. He was the type who needed saving—not the type who could save others. "I did that? How?"

"Simple. By loving me. By standing by me. That's all it takes. That's all I need." Jennifer looked out at the road in front of them. "I don't want to talk about Lawrence anymore right now. It may be difficult or naïve, but I want him in the past." Jennifer reached up and tapped the rearview mirror and then gestured at the road ahead. "I want to go forward to our future. Let's go there now."

Jack smiled and switched the car back into Drive. He reached up and tapped her nose, "Your wish is my will," and they proceeded on to the cabin.

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Jack unlocked the cabin and dropped the suitcases at the threshold. It was nice and well-appointed but everything was contained within the one room. There was one bed, but that had a trundle bed underneath that Jack would sleep in.

Jennifer smiled when she saw it. It was quaint and cozy. It was a perfect escape and exactly what she wanted; she didn't do an accounting of the beds. At this moment, she didn't care about the sleeping arrangements because she trusted Jack completely.

"It's perfect!" Jennifer exuded, almost always the optimist. Jack liked seeing her this way. She was acting and reacting so different than she had in that other cabin when she had been so nervous, stilted, and non-communicative. Jack knew that what she said in the car was correct—she was now able to breathe. And it was making all the difference in the world for her.

Jennifer's eyes drifted towards the kitchen area. "Why don't I start on the salad while you make a fire?" Jennifer liked being here. Away from Salem, away from anything remotely resembling the bad memories of Lawrence. These few days respite were going to be so soothing to her soul. Somehow, despite everything, they were able to forge a path forward to their future lives. _Love will find a way._

Jack nodded and headed over to the hearth. He looked at the supplies off to the right of the fireplace: the logs, the matches, the kindling. Memories of his dream last night came back unbidden—he had built a fire in that dream to torture Lawrence, to teach him a lesson, to indulge and satiate his darker self. He set to work to build the fire simply because he did not want to explain to Jennifer why it would be so difficult.

His hands trembled as he grabbed a fistful of kindling and dropped it onto the iron grate inside the fireplace. He lit the long match and lit the kindling from below. Seeing the twigs glow red and curl from the heat, seeing the occasional flame shoot up a few inches, he heard once more the dream screams of Lawrence. He quickly tossed a few logs onto the barely started kindling, hoped for the best, and turned away.

Jennifer was dicing the carrots, almost ready to toss them into the waiting salad bowl that already contained lettuce, radishes, and onions. Jennifer looked up and caught him staring, "Almost ready," she said brightly.

She was amazed at the easy domesticity that they were able to have. It just demonstrated to her once more that their love was worth more to each of them than anything else—careers, family, gigantic obstacles, and internal dramas would never separate them. She knew this situation and the memories that had been stirred up were tough for Jack, but he was proving, simply by not running away, that Jennifer mattered to him so much more.

Jack walked over and put his hand over her hand holding the chef's knife, stopping her from her dicing. "Can I ask you something?"

Jennifer looked up into his troubled blue eyes, "Anything."

Jack looked into her expectant green eyes and couldn't ask his intended difficult question. That could wait until after dinner or until tomorrow. He could keep things light—for now. He switched directions, "Do you know how much I love you and how much I want to marry you?"

Jennifer beamed. "Yes! I'm sure it's as much as I want to marry you." She wanted to go onto her tiptoes and kiss him. She wanted to kiss him. But she just couldn't. Not yet. There were still too many issues holding her back. Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

After dinner, they moved to the soft rug close to the fire and Jennifer replenished the nearly spent logs on the fire with some new ones. She liked hearing the fire-cracker popping of the logs as they heated; she remembered from girl scouts that the cracking was tiny explosions of super heated pockets of water that turned to steam, thus expanding and needing to escape from the confines of the wood. She liked the randomness of watching the fire burn—which log would succumb first? how long would the fire last? which flame would suddenly grow high?

They settled down on the rug at the hearth with their hot mugs of herbal tea. Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He was learning what affection was okay. His arms around her or holding her hand was okay anytime. If he was going to touch her face or kiss her cheek or forehead, then he needed to give her warning and wait for her assent. Kissing her lips, patting her butt, grabbing her from behind and pulling her towards him—well, obviously never. Or, actually, not yet.

After a few sips of their hot tea, he broached the question he wanted to ask her while she was preparing the salad. "Jennifer, can I ask you something?" he started again.

His tone called her attention and she looked up into his troubled eyes, "Anything," she replied, repeating her answer from before.

"It's about what you told me yesterday."

Jennifer stiffly nodded and her body tensed up. She didn't pull away from his embrace though, "What about yesterday?"

"It happened in Lawrence's room on the day of the wedding."

Jennifer slowly nodded.

"You were there because I had told you I'd meet you there and you trusted me."

"This isn't your fault. He'd captured you; there's no way you could've gotten to me. I think he captured you for this exact reason—because he didn't want you to…to get in his way."

"How can you so easily absolve me? I was supposed to protect you, not put you into danger!" Jack removed his arm from around her shoulder and brought both of her hands into his.

"How can you so easily convict yourself?" Jennifer asked back. "This isn't your fault. I'm not blaming you and _I_ am the only one with the right to blame you _if_ it was warranted—and it is not warranted.

Jack shook his head; he could not accept her magnanimity so easily, "I was chatting it up with Francois, captured maybe but not in any real danger, while you…, while he…"

Jennifer put her hands on his cheeks. "You did not fail me. Please hear that. Know that. And know how much I love you."

Jack pulled away and sat on the brick hearth, "How can you love me? I'm glad of it. I'm so grateful for it and I'd do anything to hold on to it. I know I shouldn't be asking this. I shouldn't be dumping my minuscule problems on you when you're dealing with such hellacious ones. I know this is just reason #869 why I'm such a selfish cad. But, seriously, how? With everything that I've done coupled with everything you've endured?"

Jennifer's eyes were full of compassion, ready to deny everything he was try to think about himself, "Jack, I love you—."

Jack interrupted her, "I know you love me, but should you?"

That question insulted her, "Damn right I should."

Her swearing surprised Jack. She never swore.

"You're not the same as Lawrence," she continued. "Not then and definitely not now. I know your default position is to think the worst about yourself. You thought that last spring which is why you fought so hard against us getting together. You thought that after you defended Steve and Kayla's life and your father died accidentally as a result. You preferred to see yourself as violent and broke up with me. Please don't put yourself and please don't put me through that hell again. Learn from your mistakes, dammit, and stop doubting about whether I should or should not love you or whether you are or are not good for me."

Jennifer swearing twice in one minute really called his attention. "Of course. Of course that choice is yours. All yours." Jack confirmed as he recalled Kayla's guidance she gave him the day after he learned the truth. "I'm not trying to push you away or corner you into breaking up with me. That's not what I want. But sometimes, things just get to be too much in my head."

Jennifer gathered his hands in hers, "Then talk to me."

Jack resisted and shook his head. She had too much to deal with on her own. She didn't need his problems too. That wasn't fair.

Jennifer tried to gently nudge him, "We're in this together. My problems are yours," she smiled sweetly as she paused, "And your problems are mine. Please don't try to rank them or scale them. Tell me what you're feeling."

"I feel angry." Jack admitted, he couldn't look at her after he made that confession.

Jennifer stroked his hand, "Of course you are. I'm angry too."

Jack shook his head; she didn't understand. "I do terrible things when I'm angry. I thought I was angry…before…all those years ago…but that anger was nothing like this. That anger was a mere shadow to the anger and hatred I'm feeling now. I'm scared of what I'm capable of doing. I'm scared that this anger and hatred will twist me into a person that you can't love anymore."

Jack looked up finally and into her eyes. "I shouldn't dump this on you. You shouldn't be worried about this too, but that is what was going on in my head last night. You wouldn't believe the things I fantasized about doing to…to him." Jack looked back down, unable to keep her gaze, "And if I do those things, I betray you, I betray Steve and Kayla, I betray Jo, and I betray all the promises I made to myself."

Jennifer's heart went out to him. His pain was her pain just as she knew that her pain was his. She remembered that on the day of the wedding, there was one bright shining moment in the midst of all the horror. Jack and Jennifer had taken their own personal wedding vows. It wasn't playacting for her; she meant every word—then and now.

Tiny tears were starting to form at the corner of her eyes from the memory. "Remember what I said to you that day before everything went so awful? When I think back on that day, I want to remember these words that I said to you: I Jennifer, take you, Jack, for better and mostly for worse. In spite of your egotism, pigheadedness, and inability to express any kind of meaningful emotion, to be my lawfully wedded equal partner who will love, honor, and obey me 'til death do us part."

Jack smiled broadly at the memory. She had remembered it exactly. Those words had sustained him on many dark occasions ever since. And he would do what she wanted; he would obey.

Jennifer reached up her hand and stroked his cheek. "I want you 'for better or worse.' Not just my worse, but your worse too. I talked to you about what I'm going through yesterday. Please talk to me now."

Jack still resisted. No good could come from this truth. "There's really nothing to say. I haven't done anything. I'm just worried about that dark path in my mind," Jack tapped his temple, "I'm worried that I will do something. Last night, I dreamed that I kidnapped him, tortured him, and then in the dream, when I pulled the hood off his face, that it was my own. That I am him or that I deserve what I want to do to him, I don't know. But none of it is good. I'm worried that someday soon you'll realize that I'm not the man that you think I am. That you'll realize that truth that I've been hiding from you and from myself—that the hideous evil person I was once is my true nature. I can feel it resurrecting."

Jennifer was growing more concerned, "You're wrong. Oh God Jack, please believe me that you're wrong. I know who you are. I know your spirit and your soul. I know you like I know myself and I'm telling you that you're wrong. You are good and kind and loving and heroic. You've saved me so many times."

Jack rose up and paced the room. "There's a story I remember hearing in Church. Yes, Harper made us go to Church when we lived in Washington—for appearances sake. The minister told a story in one of her sermons about a girl who was sitting on a rock in the woods and a snake came up and wanted to sit next to her. The girl was afraid of the snake and nearly ran away, but the snake told her to sit back down and promised not to bite her or hurt her. The girl agreed and sat back down. They sat together for a minute or two and then the snake reached out and bit her—injected his poisonous venom with his fangs. The girl looked stunned and gasped in one of her last breaths 'you promised you wouldn't hurt me!' and the snake replied 'yes, but you knew that I was truly a snake when you sat beside me.'"

Jack saw the horrified look on Jennifer's face as he completed the story. "I don't want to be that snake. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to drive you away either. I'm just scared."

Jennifer rose up from the hearth and determinedly paced over to Jack and put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I'm not scared. I'm not scared enough for both of us. I love you and I will always be on your side. Now, I want you to repeat your vows to me. Your vows from that day. Tell them to me now. I need to hear them."

Jack relented and recalled back to that day, remembering how beautiful she looked in that wedding dress and trying not to think of everything that came after. "And I, Jack take you, Jennifer in spite of your idealistic naiveté, your stubbornness, your pesky little ability to get under my skin, no matter what the cost, your ability to be my other though not necessarily better half. I would like to take you."

Jennifer put her hands on Jack's shoulders, went up on tiptoes, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. The first one in a long time. It was to seal their wedding vows; she still didn't feel comfortable kissing him regularly or letting him kiss her. She knew that would come in time.

Jack swallowed hard; he swallowed his doubts—for now. If Jennifer had faith in him then he would let her hold onto that faith. Even though he didn't possess that faith himself.

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In the middle of the night, Jack felt her hand on his arm and heard a whispered 'Jack.' He woke up instantly alert. He didn't think Lawrence would follow them here, but that jerk was his immediate concern. "Are you okay?" The lights were dim, not extinguished, for her sake, but it was still difficult to determine if there was a problem.

"I'm fine." Jennifer was smiling and that put Jack at ease. "It's just that I'm cold. Could I climb in with you?"

Her request just melted Jack's heart, "Of course. If you prefer though, we can throw more wood on the fire or would you rather I keep you warm?" Jennifer shyly, sweetly nodded with a hint of smile. "Okay," Jack replied, "but your bed is probably a little more comfortable than this one. So why don't I just come up with you instead, okay?"

She nodded, offered her hand, and led him up into her bed. They settled into her bed; Jennifer had her back to him, spooning and nestled close up to him. They were both wearing silk pajamas and it felt both nerve-wracking and satisfying for her. She could feel every part of his body and his arms were securely wrapped around her. His left hand rested on her stomach and his right hand reached out under her pillow and she could hold his hand. Jennifer reveled in his scent, in feeling his breath on her neck, in knowing that they could stay this close all night and he would never take advantage. She tried to relax; Jennifer knew she was safe. Jennifer slowly inhaled and exhaled and allowed them to remain that way. Over the next ten minutes, her heart rate slowed and she was able to calm enough to sleep. They stayed like that all night.

This was her first night since Alamain attacked her that Jennifer slept without nightmares.

Jack wasn't quite so lucky. He loved feeling her softness, he loved knowing her willingness to be close to him. Her incredible words in the car still resonated within his mind and they almost, _almost_ , cancelled out the dangerous dark thoughts permeating his head since he learned the full scope and brutality of how Lawrence had made her suffer.. He hated Lawrence; he hated himself, but for Jennifer's sake, he would not give in to that hatred. Jennifer was worth that much—oh, truly, she was worth so much more! Her confidence and faith in him meant so much and provided so much strength to fight his resurrected inner demons. As he slowly drifted off to sleep, cradling his precious Jennifer within his arms, Jack hoped he would be strong enough to defeat his dark side.

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Jack found himself on the deck of a sleek metal vessel. He looked around and saw he was surrounded by thousands of nighttime stars—almost like he was in the middle of a planetarium show. He looked down and saw he was wearing a strange outfit—a black tunic, black pants, and exotic boots. At his waist was a metal baton. From behind him, he heard loud breathing, inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale and the music of an ominous march. He turned around and saw a towering figure dressed from head to toe in black including a black mask, black helmet, black gloves, and a black cape. Although he couldn't see the man's face, somehow he knew instantly that this figure was his father—Darth Harper.

"Jack Skywalker," his father called him in a deep throaty voice. "So, you have come to accept that you are my son and you wish to join me."

"I accept that you were the man who raised me. That is all."

"Give in to your hatred, give in to your heritage and your journey to the dark side will be complete."

"I will not join you, father."

"I look forward to completing your education. Do you honestly believe you are similar to your friends, Han Steveo, Princess Kayla, or Jennifer? You cannot help them and they cannot help you. You may fight against me. You may fight against the dark side, but you must fulfill your destiny."

"I will not fight you, father. Stop this. End this now."

"Remember your anger. Feed that anger. I can feel your hatred. By now you must know that I, your father, cannot turn from the dark side. So will it be with you. Remember my other adopted son and your brother, Lord Lawrence. Become a dark lord like him. You two are so similar that if we joined forces, then together we will rule the Salem galaxy." At that introduction, out came Lord Lawrence, wearing a long cape with a hood that covered his hair. Lord Lawrence was imposing and intimidating and Jack Skywalker immediately knew that Lord Lawrence had already turned to the dark side.

"No. That can't be true! He can't be my brother. That's impossible!"

Jack Skywalker was struggling to maintain control, hide his feelings, and not to give in to anger. Not to give in to his darker self like he had in the past.

"Yes, your feelings are strong for your friends. I can feel how much you want to protect them. Especially…Jennifer."

At Jennifer's name, Jack Skywalker's blood started a slow boil. "Your overconfidence is your weakness," he said to his father.

"Your confidence in your friends is yours. The hate is swelling in you now. If you won't turn to the dark side, perhaps Jennifer will."

"No!" With that, Jack Skywalker pulled the baton at his waist. He instinctually knew how to operate it. He pushed the button and opened the light saber. At that, Lord Lawrence, released his light saber as well. Jack Skywalker launched at Lord Lawrence, determined to battle him for Jennifer's sake. His green light saber crossed with Lord Lawrence's red light saber. They slashed and spun around as Jack Skywalker and Lord Lawrence parried, engaged, and avoided each other in an extended duel. Jack Skywalker remembered his training well—'measure twice, cut once.'

Jack Skywalker gave into the anger and gave into the darker forces, as he struggled valiantly to protect his friends, Han Steveo, Princess Kayla, and Jennifer from these forces of evil. He hoped his aggressiveness would intimidate Lord Lawrence, but he knew that the dark lord had nothing worth fighting for and he battled only for the thrill of victory.

The battle went on and on; Jack Skywalker and Lord Lawrence were evenly matched. Jack Skywalker was better at maintaining his balance and side-stepping the attacks while Lord Lawrence was highly skilled at luring Jack's defenses. But eventually, Jack Skywalker was able to knock Lord Lawrence off balance when he left his legs exposed. Lord Lawrence fell to his knees. Jack Skywalker smiled; he finally had the dark lord 'on point'; Jack Skywalker continued pummeling Lord Lawrence as he barely managed to shield himself with his own light saber.

Then he heard his father laughing behind him. "Good. Good. Use your aggressive feelings boy. Let the hate flow through you," Darth Harper exuded. "With each passing moment, with each strike of your light saber, you become more and more my son. Strike Lord Lawrence once more and your journey to the dark side will be complete."

Lord Lawrence smiled up at Jack Skywalker. "There is no escape. It is unavoidable, it is your destiny. You, like Jennifer, are now mine." Lord Lawrence stayed poised on the floor, waiting for Jack Skywalker's next blow—the all important blow that would be the death knell for Jack Skywalker and the creation of a new dark lord.

Jack Skywalker, stood poised over Lord Lawrence, light saber lifted and ready. He was ready to bring down the light saber down in an instant. It would mean his victory in this moment, but also his ultimate defeat. It would be the end of Jack Skywalker in his path towards becoming a Jedi Knight.

Lord Lawrence, detecting Jack Skywalker's ambivalence, taunted him hoping to push him to strike, "You underestimate the power of the dark side. Jennifer was so ripe, so innocent and I will never forget her screaming. Just like the screams I heard in Jabba the Hutt's palace from those Jabba was torturing. Strike me down or I will find her again. She won't be able to escape from me ever again—not even with the fastest ship in the galaxy. She will know the true power of the dark side. I will be her master now."

Jack Skywalker dropped his lightsaber to his side. "No. I will not fight you. You failed." He turned to look at his father. "You failed too. I am determined to be a good person, like Han Steveo, like Princess Kayla, like Jennifer. I will never join you. Not. Ever. Again."

Lord Lawrence rose and faced him, mere inches separated them. "Then, young and foolish Skywalker, you and your Jennifer will die."

Jack woke up in the bed, breathing hard and sweating. He lied there in bed for several minutes trying to catch his breath and process everything from his dream. He looked down and saw that he was in the cabin with Jennifer and she was sleeping peacefully, making sweet sighs occasionally. He looked around the cabin and knew that he would never know peace until he had escaped from his father's house forever. When they returned to Salem, Jack knew that he would not sleep in Harper's house ever again.


	11. Chapter 11

Jennifer woke up the next morning, luxuriating in the comfort of Jack's arms. She couldn't believe how lucky she felt. She had Jack…still. She was able to be close to him, to sleep with him (in the literal sense, not the figurative one), and cuddle. Even his…ahem, morning response…hadn't flustered her.

She flipped from her side onto her back and smoothed his hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Hi sleepyhead," she whispered as his eyes fluttered open. She didn't know how long this feeling would last, but this morning, Jennifer felt glorious.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked yawning and starting to stretch.

"Wonderful. Not a single nightmare."

"Good."

"No. You don't understand. I have had nightmares _every single night_ since…"

Jack's eyes grew wide. He hadn't realized. He decided he wouldn't mention his nightmare-it just couldn't compare.

Jennifer hopped up and down in bed, shaking it. "Can I make you breakfast?"

"Sure! What is there?"

Jennifer pretended like she was thinking hard, "Well, there's salad…and there's salad. And salad."

"Like the one last night?"

"Um hmm," Jennifer nodded brightly.

Her mood was infectious, "Perfect," Jack answered.

They had an easy day at the cabin just indulging the in pleasure of each other's company. The world was blocked out and locked away. Their conversations were mundane and trivial which was a great relief after the incredible soul-searching, soul-breaking content of their conversations and inner dialogues. They needed this respite from the world, from reality, from heartache and from drama. And there was no one that either would rather spend the day with.

It wasn't a lazy day though. Both Jack and Jennifer were industrious, hard-working journalists and both had brought along work related to long-term stories that each were developing. It was mid-afternoon and they lay on their stomachs with their papers splayed out before them; he on the trundle bed, she on the big bed.

They worked like that for a few hours until Jennifer broke Jack's concentration and she swiped his pen away from him.

"What you do that for?" Jack exclaimed in mock protest.

"Mine's out of ink. I need yours."

"That's my only pen. Give it back."

Jennifer smiled and shook her head, "Uh-uh."

Jack knew those eyes; those were baiting eyes. He drew up to his knees. "I'm gonna get that back."

Jennifer shook her head again. "I need it to work. I have a boss to keep happy. You are the boss."

Jack shrugged and acted like he was giving up, but his eyes were sparkling. Suddenly, he lunged up to her bed and flipped her over onto her back, straddling on top of her and reaching for his pen in her right hand.

And then the fun was over. He looked down and saw her eyes. He was on top of her, pinning her. He had grasped her wrists to make it easier to grab back that stupid pen. Her eyes were scared, panicked; she was reacting, she was remembering.

Jack jumped off her immediately, recoiling in horror at his thoughtlessness. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Jennifer was breathing fast and tiny tears were at the corners of her eyes. She hated how fragile she was; how easily and torrentially all the memories could come flooding back. Still flat on her back, she propped herself up on her elbows and she shook her head; it's all she could manage until she got her breathing under control.

Jennifer was biting her lip to keep back her tears; she knew Jack felt bad enough already and didn't need to see her cry. Jack saw her doing that—biting her lip to not cry—exactly as Harper had taught him as a little boy growing up and he felt even worse.

"Jennifer, I'm sorry. I'd never hurt you." He couldn't stop thinking about her eyes in that moment. He tried not to remember that those had been Kayla's eyes too.

"I know. I'm okay. I'm fine." Jennifer reached up with her hand to caress his cheek, trying to pacify and lessen the disastrous transformation of their day.

Jack wouldn't let himself off the hook that easily. "It's not fine," he said adamantly.

"It is. Let's do something else. Forget work. We shouldn't even be doing that anyway. We aren't here to work."

"Okay," Jack conceded, desperately wanting to fix what he had wrecked.

Jennifer turned away and Jack could see she brought her palms to her face. He couldn't see her expression now. Jack stood there helpless for a minute not knowing what was happening or what he should do. Then he started hearing her cry. She was sobbing; her body almost shaking from the paroxyms. Jack didn't know what to do.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit," Jennifer repeated in frustrated agony.

"Jennifer?" Jack wanted to reach out to her and started simply with her name.

She held up her hand, warding him off. "You can't know. You can't know what this is like. I'm on a precipice all the time, trying so hard to hold myself together, fearful that one false step and I'll fall. I don't know what to do…with…what I'm feeling."

"What are you feeling?"

"I'm angry," Jennifer yelled. "I'm angry at Lawrence. I'm angry at myself. I'm angry at…everybody."

Jack knew she was going to say that she was angry at him and had then changed it to 'everybody.' He wasn't going to confront her about that right now. This pain she was enduring wasn't about him and his past and he didn't want to be so arrogant and self-absorbed to divert her pain and to make it about him.

"Good," Jack replied, trying to maintain composure for both of them. She needed him to be strong for her right now; he was determined not to fail her. "Be angry. You've got a lot to be angry about."

"I hate him," she yelled. "How could he do that? How could anyone do that?"

Jack slowly walked towards her, attempting to close the physical distance between them. "You'll never understand. Don't even try."

"He—he hurt me. He was hurting me. I couldn't stop him." Her eyes had been focused on her hands that were still steepled in front of her face; she shifted her gaze now to Jack. "You warned me about him. I was so stupid. I was so damn stupid. I had a million chances to stop it before it happened and I threw all those chances away. HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID?"

"You're not stupid," Jack said with steely finality.

Jennifer let him have that point. "Okay, how can I be so naïve? And don't tell me I'm not. You've told me how naïve I am like a thousand times."

Jack hated having his words thrown back in his face, especially when they had been wrong. "Don't believe a cynical guy like me about that. You're not naïve. You just believe the best about people. That's the way things are supposed to be. That's one of the reasons I love you. Don't go changing who you are because of jerks like that," Jack tapped his chest, "or cynical people like me."

Her eyes darted around the room, trying to find something to focus on just as her mind was trying to settle. She was adrift and still searching for stable ground beneath her.

"Be angry at him. Be angry at the archaic laws in his country. Be angry at me for thoughtlessly hurtling you back to that awful experience. But don't be angry at yourself. Please."

"I can't let it go. I think for a long time to come, I will ask myself what I could have done differently."

Jack shook his head, "Nothing."

Jennifer wasn't ready to accept that. She needed to be alone and went for her coat, "I need to get some air. I just need to be by myself for a bit. Please just be okay with that."

Jack gestured at the door. Jennifer mouthed, "Thanks."

Jack fell backwards onto the bed. Kayla had warned him that day in his office that Jennifer would have dark days and days that she would need to be away from people. Kayla had been that way too, Jack recalled her saying.

Jennifer may not have been able to say that she was mad at Jack. But Jack was mad enough at himself for both of them.

Jack rose up and started a fire. She would be cold when she returned back from her walk. The fire would help.

Thirty minutes later, Jennifer returned. She immediately noticed the fire and went to it, though she didn't comment on his thoughtfulness. She only said, "I'd rather not talk about it anymore tonight. Could we just move on and enjoy our evening?"

Jack acquiesced and they managed to cobble together an enjoyable evening. She beat him in Scrabble, but she wasn't sure if she truly won, he let her win, or he was so preoccupied that he couldn't focus on the game.

When bedtime came, he was arranging out his trundle bed, not wanting to assume that she would choose to share a bed again. Jennifer noticed his sideways glances and read the situation. She wanted him holding her like the previous night.

"Could you hold me again, like last night?" she asked shyly.

A smile appeared, then disappeared from his face and he nodded, feeling relieved. He was going to revel in any and all nights that they could share together.

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They both woke up the next morning in better spirits than when they had gone to bed. Their nightmare-free night of sleeping in each other's arms had been the best medicine for both of them. They decided to head back though. Jennifer needed to be back at the TV studio the following day.

In the car, Jack told Jennifer that he was moving out of his father's house and getting a new place. "Wherever I land, you're welcome there anytime. If you need to borrow my dictionary or if you want to have a slumber party, whatever."

Jennifer took his hand. She realized how difficult it was for him to be at the loft right now in the wake of everything that had happened. His new place would be new neutral territory for new memories-their memories and no room for ghosts or painful memories.

Jack ran his thumb across her diamond ring, "I'd like your opinion on whatever place the realtor shows me before I sign anything. It will be your home too after we marry. I want you to be happy there."

"When I'm married to you and sharing your home, then of course I'll be happy. The floor plan and square footage won't matter."

Jack smirked. "I want to make sure you're satisfied with the kitchen because you'll be spending lots of time in there making my meals."

Jennifer swatted him, "You're not the boss of me anymore, remember? Besides, remember our wedding vows-you're supposed to obey me."

"Absolutely," Jack answered in mock sincerity. "Until death do us part."

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One hour later, Jack and Jennifer, were standing in the kitchen of the loft. Jack had taken her suitcase upstairs for her, but he wasn't planning to stay.

When he descended the stairs, Jennifer called to him, "That was Kayla on the answering machine. She and Steve are having a Super Bowl party tonight and have invited us over to it. You want to go?"

"A Super Bowl party?" Jack asked surprised.

"Things have been peaceful for them for a while, considering their history of being flung from one crisis to the next. I think it will be fun, if you want to go of course."

Jack considered it. This would be a first, he thought. The four of them at a party together and trying to have fun. It would likely be awkward as hell—all the past history hidden under a veil of supposed lighthearted socializing. But Kayla was making an effort to move from that incessant tension between them to a more casual acceptance of existing within each other's worlds. She was making an effort and he could too.

"Are you fine going?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah. It'll be nice."

"Okay then sure." Jack agreed.

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Steve and Kayla were enjoying the domesticity and decided to host a Super Bowl party. They had invited over Jo, Bo and Carly, and Jack and Jennifer. If it went well and they weren't in crisis during the next Super Bowl then they might actually make it a tradition.

Stephanie had long since gone to bed for the night and at the end of the third quarter, the evening and the novelty of a TV-centric party was starting to wane.

Jack had migrated outside twenty minutes earlier and sat on the porch swing when Kayla wandered out.

Kayla saw Jack and steeled herself. It was still an odd sensation to socialize with Jack. It didn't feel like they could ever just be casual. She moved forward anyway and asked, "Where's your mom?"

"She left at halftime. Anything exciting going on in there?"

Kayla shook her head, "Bo and Steve are watching the game while Jennifer and Carly are chatting about old times."

Jack nodded and took another swig from his beer bottle. He normally hated beer, but he wanted to try something that seemed more appropriate for a Johnson than a Deveraux. "Thanks for having us here. I'm not really into football. Only found out tonight that it was the Giants versus the Bills. And I run a newspaper; I should know these things."

Kayla smiled and sat down on the swing. They were on opposite ends of the swing so they weren't anywhere close to touching, but Jack was touched just the same.

Jack realized the strangeness of the situation too—a party guest, no high-stakes drama, no buffers, just Jack and Kayla attempting to be casual and light-hearted and joking. "Even though I don't like football, it is nice being at a nice normal party. It's not a welcome home from being kidnapped, welcome home from being shipwrecked, welcome home from being held at a villa in a country no one's ever heard of-even me with my Ivy league education and internship at the United Nations. And in this country, my girlfriend was put into a forced marriage."

Jack stopped and shook his head, "Oh God, seriously, why does that crazy stuff keep happening to us? Is there something in the water? Anyway I'm glad to be at your Super Bowl party, but the Buffalo Bills have to win. I can handle absolutely anything in life but the Bills losing."

Kayla laughed.

Jack sat up, alert, and looked at her. He smiled broadly. "You laughed. You honest-to-God laughed at one of my jokes." Jack leaned his head back on the seat. "That makes my day."

Kayla eyed the beer bottle and hoped he wasn't having too much. Getting drunk would mean too much familiarity, too many lowered barriers and inhibitions. She could tolerate Jack and even generally like him or be entertained, but would still always be wary. "Yeah, well, go easy on the alcohol. Okay? Tomorrow is a work day."

"Not drunk. Promise."

Kayla rose up when she saw Carly and Bo were exiting out the front door to go home.

"You leaving?" Kayla asked.

Bo gave a sideways glance at Jack and nodded. "Carly's got an early morning at the hospital." He leaned forward and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for a fun evening, Kay."

After Carly and Bo left, Kayla gestured at the front door, "I'm heading in."

Jack got up from the swing. "Yeah, I'll see what Jennifer's up to."

When Jack and Kayla came into the house, Steve rose up from the couch, "Hey, just coming to look for you two." Steve pointed at Jack's beer bottle, "You want another one?" Steve knew that Jack was his guest, not Kayla's, and wasn't about to make her fetch things for him as hostess.

"Umm, please. Thanks." Jack sat down next to Jennifer on a little sofa and took her hand into his.

When Steve came back into the living room, he sat down on the couch next to Kayla and turned down the volume on the TV. They could look at the TV to check the score, but were still free to talk. The two couples sat like that for a few moments in awkward silence. Everyone wanted it to be nice and natural, but unsure of the topics to get there.

Steve finally tried rescuing the situation, "Jennifer, Jack told me you know about our secret passageway."

Kayla looked at them in surprise, "You know about that?"

Jack looked shy, "Yes, came across it accidentally once as I was snooping around."

At that, Kayla looked taken aback. "You were…snooping?"

"I was looking for the key-Marina's key," Jack explained.

Kayla nodded and relaxed. She recalled that time when her relationship to Steve was in trouble and then she as later kidnapped by Victor. She knew Jack had done a lot to help them get through that crisis.

Steve continued on, looking to tease and make mischief for his little brother, "And he told me that secret passageway is where you had one of your first real kisses."

Jennifer glanced at Jack, "Yes." The actual kiss had been wonderful, but what Jack had said in the aftermath had been difficult. Jack had dismissed her and turned her away again.

Jack read her expression and regretted again his actions that day a year ago and his words after that kiss in the secret passageway. He regretted so many of his actions and words to Jennifer from the previous spring. He had vowed once he learned the truth about what Lawrence had done to her that he would never treat her like that again. He spoke up to salvage her feelings, "Yes, we kissed and the kiss was incredible, but I wasn't ready for our relationship yet. I am so grateful that you waited." Normally, Jack wouldn't be so honest or forthcoming in front of anyone else, but Steve and Kayla already knew the best and worst of him. There were walls, but there were no secrets.

"The truth is," Jack continued, "I lied that day. The earth did move…for me."

Steve had meant that topic to be light-hearted and teasing, but had inadvertently stumbled into some potential landmines. He seized on another topic to guide them away. "As a papa, I've got to tell ou something about my kid. Stephanie has a stubborn habit in which she will not let us know what she wants to drink. So, we have to make it a game in which we line up all the choices: water, apple juice, milk, white grape juice, red grape juice and then when everything is lined up and she has all her choices, then she points at the one she wants."

Jennifer laughed, "That's so cute."

Steve pointed at Jack, "Jack was the same way as a baby."

"Really?" Jack asked, instantly alert. He knew so little about his early childhood. His adoptive mother, Camille, had died when he was in kindergarten, Harper had photos but had never bothered to tell stories. Jo had never told him stories either about when he was a baby. He guessed that she assumed it would be unwelcome, but he really did want to know about that part of his past. He decided to ask her for some stories the next time he saw her.

Kayla looked surprised too and slightly unsettled that Stephanie had a habit so similar to Jack's.

"Yep. Mama made it my job to get out everything from the refrigerator so that you could choose. She really had a lot to do and relied on me to make sure you were happy. When the old man would come home in the evening though, no one had time for the extended games and you just had to drink whatever Mama gave you. He was a grown man and Duke figured he needed more attention than a little baby."

Jennifer looked at Jack, "That's so sweet that you were like that and now so is Stephanie. I wonder if our kid will be…" Jennifer stopped, instantly shy and embarrassed. Jack had been so skittish and noncommittal for so long and now she was foisting parenthood on him. However, Jack didn't feel at all discomfited; he looked at her with such love. He didn't even feel shy demonstrating those feelings in from of Steve and Kayla. Jennifer sounded so confident and optimistic. It erased all the awkwardness of the situation of trying to make polite conversation and he just felt so lucky to have her. He lifted up her hand that he had been holding this whole time. He brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. "We'll get there. We'll get there someday."

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True to his word, Jack had never gone back to Harper's house. The morning he left that place after he had dreamed of torturing Lawrence was the last time he ever saw the place. He had moved into the Salem Inn until he found a place, Jennifer had liked it and agreed to it, and it had gotten legally transferred over to him. He paid movers to transfer everything to his new penthouse or into storage.

Jennifer kept the pattern they had started in the cabin. She stayed with him in the Salem Inn and also in the penthouse. They were familiar and comfortable with each other, but their affection had not progressed any further.

"Jack?" Jennifer started slowly, wary of bringing up this topic, but if she was going to get past the rape and be able to move on with their lives together then she had to stop being so skittish and scared and to just trust. The truth was that Lawrence had started an earthquake-not just one on his property by whatever hijinks he had engineered underground. He had also created a figurative one in their lives that had shifted the ground beneath Jack and Jennifer and had exposed a long buried rift and brought this past problem to the surface.

"Yes?" They were sitting on a park bench; her head leaning on his shoulder, their hands interwoven. This is where they naturally migrated to nowadays when they met during the day. Out in public, without the bad history, and showing affection that was completely friendly. There was no kissing, Jennifer never sat on his lap, it was completely non-sexual. If it wasn't affection that Jack would show to Jo or Adrienne then he didn't show it to Jennifer.

"At the counseling session, there is something I want to discuss. I mean, there is something we probably should discuss and I think it would be best if we did discuss it at a counseling session." Jennifer tensed up and her leg was shaking nearly uncontrollably from nervousness of broaching this topic.

Jack's arm had been around her shoulder and he brought it back to his side. He couldn't discuss Kayla or the past while touching her.

"Kayla."

Jennifer nodded. "Kayla. I think we need to discuss it and lay it to rest so that it doesn't haunt us and so that it's not part of the subtext of every conversation we have about the past or dealing with what happened to me."

"Jennifer, I don't really want to talk about that with you. I don't want you to see me that way."

"Jack, we're both thinking about it. I won't lie to you and say that I haven't thought about it and I know you are too. I'm sure you've thought about it a lot lately. We can't compartmentalize our lives, separate our lives and still think that we can move past this and become one. I didn't want to just spring it on you in the middle of a counseling session if you don't want to do it, However, I thought it would be best if we talked about it in a counseling session, where it could be mediated and having a third person would make it seem more clinical and safe…"

Jack seized on that word, "Safe? You need a third person-a witness-to feel safe discussing Kayla with me?"

"I didn't mean _safe_ like that. I meant safe from misunderstandings, from arguments spiraling out of control-like what _I_ did in the cabin when I slapped you," Jennifer quickly added that last bit to make sure he didn't misinterpret the 'spiraling' comment. "Will you think about it?"

Jack nodded. He knew she was right. If they were going to make it, then they would just have to go through it; walk on the hot coals or on the broken glass (whatever metaphor seemed more appropriate in the minute). He remembered back to the Allegory of the Cave he had told her about. He had thought it was cleverly poetic and relevant given the circumstances of their long courtship and where they had first made love. However, he realized their, his journey, wasn't over yet. He had recognized the shadows that had been his former life (before Jennifer, before Jo, before Steve). With Jennifer, he had traversed a long journey of self-discovery and self-realization and had given his heart to her. The journey wasn't over yet though. In Plato's allegory, the freed man had to venture out of the cave and look at the much brighter, much more blinding sun. It would be painful he knew, but he also knew that time had come for him.

"I thought about it," Jack said finally. "I'll do it. Come what may in the aftermath. I just hope you didn't think that in the cave when I told you I loved you and made love to you that the fight was over and the battle was won. I am not an easy man. I don't have an easy past or a simple mind in here," Jack poked at his temple. "It will never be an easy life with me. I'll always be loving, but I'll also always be difficult."

"You're trying. You're giving me your heart. That means everything to me."

"I'm sure that me without a past would mean more," Jack muttered under his breath.


	12. Chapter 12

Jack and Jennifer arrived outside Dr. Baker's office five minutes before the scheduled start time. Jack had to wait outside her office before, but not like this, knowing what was going to come. Jack looked up at the ceiling; he loosened his grip on Jennifer's hands so that their fingers were barely touching at all anymore.

"Jack? Are you okay?"

Jack nodded. When Dr. Baker opened the door and gestured for them to come inside, Jack let go of Jennifer's hand entirely. "You know, I just remembered, Vern has a dentist appointment. He needs for me to cover for him at the office. I can't do this today." He motioned Jennifer in though, "But you go in. You gals have a great time." And then he winced; that was absolutely the wrong thing to say. "I meant, you great gals have a…time. Yeah, that's it. See ya."

"Jack?"

Jack was already halfway to the stairwell. "I have to go. Vern has an impacted tooth. Do you know the impact of an impacted tooth? It's a big impact!"

Jennifer relented, "Okay, you tell Vern that I hope he'll be okay. You tell him that I'll be thinking about him and wishing him well."

"Great, because yeah that nitrous oxide, that's…tough."

When Dr. Baker and Jennifer had shut the door, Jennifer looked forlorn and disappointed. "I'm okay with that. Really. I expected it actually."

"It must be a lot to think about—Jack's past when juxtaposed with what you're going through. It must be tough on both of you."

Jennifer nodded.

Dr. Baker continued, "Well, let's not worry about Jack today. I hope that you and what you need isn't getting lost in the midst of reconciling the present with Jack's past.

"No, of course not. Jack has been wonderful. He's been giving and patient and kind. The kind of boyfriend that any woman would hope to have in the aftermath. I have no qualms about Jack whatsoever."

"And yet…" Dr. Baker began.

"And yet what?" Jennifer asked. "I don't know where you're trying to lead me."

"I'm not trying to lead you anywhere. I just want to make sure that you are taking care of you."

"Of course, I am."

At that moment, Jack had come back and was standing outside the office door. He had been silently cursing himself for breaking his word. He had promised her many times that he would go to her counseling session with her. She deserved that he keep his word. It had only been five minutes, ten tops. He could go in there. He could get over his nervousness that sent him fleeing earlier. He balled up his right hand into a fist and dug his nails in the fleshy part of his palm and swung open the door.

From the doorway, he said, nearly breathless from his nervousness, "So I called and Vern's appointment was yesterday. So when he was grumpy this morning, it must've been his normal grumpiness. I'm sorry for the confusion. I'm here now. What did I miss?"

Jennifer gave a shy smile, stood up, took him by the hand and sat him down next to her.

Dr. Baked asked Jennifer, "We've already started your session. We can continue with that while Jack listens in if you like or we can switch it over to issues affecting both of you."

Jennifer looked to Jack, "Is it okay if we do what we'd talked about?"

Jack let out a long breath, "Sure."

"I just want to get it over and done with so it's no longer hanging over our heads as something that 'must be done' for us to get better."

"How would you like to do this?" Dr. Baker asked. "Jack can just start talking or if that would be too much for him to say and too much for you to listen, then maybe Jennifer could ask questions." She looked at Jack since he'd be doing most of the talking and confessing. "Jack?"

Jack looked over to Jennifer. "It's her choice." On this day more than others, Kayla's words and advice to him in his office weighed deeply.

"I think questions are better. Keeps it limited. Focused." Jennifer saw Jack looking up at the ceiling and bit her lip; she couldn't put him through this. "You know, let's not do this."

"Jennifer, we should. We've come too far now. I'm fine. Truly."

"No," she had already tested him and pushed him to the limit. How many ways did he have to prove that he loved her? She couldn't ask this of him. This conversation wasn't needed. What Jennifer needed was to know that he loved her—and he did. What Jennifer needed was his patience and support—which she had. What Jennifer needed was to know that there would be a life to build towards—and she knew that. She didn't need to know specifics of that night.

"Jennifer, I don't want to be scared anymore. And I don't think you want to be either…about anything. Let's do this for that reason and so that there is nothing unsaid or forbidden between us. There is so much that is forbidden and that can never be said between Kayla and me—and that's for very good reason. I don't want that with you and me. Now, if I recall, your first question to me that night at my house was 'Did I hear Kayla saying no?' Correct?" Jennifer reluctantly nodded. "Well, we should start there."

For Jack, Dr. Baker's presence faded away. He was aware of Jennifer and of his current self as he had to take his mind back to what he had been. He got up and stared at that painting of Dr. Baker's—the one he had focused on in earlier sessions and had wanted to haggle over buying it instead of dealing with his issues. He was staring at that picture like it was a portal into the past and he could see that night come into focus within the frame of that picture almost as though he were watching a movie.

"I—It's hard for me to think back to that night. It cut my life in two. Before that, I was nice, inoffensive, but I lacked a strong moral compass. People would have described me as a good person—not because I was actually good, but because I hadn't done anything bad…yet. That all changed that night. Did I hear Kayla say no? Yes, but I didn't care. I didn't care in that moment.

"I have thought a lot about that night since then—a lot. What I'm going to say will merely be what I've thought about in the wake of what I did. None of this is justification or excuses or trying to blame Steve or Kayla. It's just me trying to explain and expand on that answer of 'Yes, but I didn't care.' Trying to distinguish out my reasons. Not to find excuses.

"I was hurt, but I didn't want to hurt her. I wanted to hurt Steve. I wanted her to feel something for me. I wanted her to change her mind. I knew this was my last night as her husband. I had heard them down on the docks after the election. They were talking, almost teasing each other, about who would be the one to tell me that the marriage was over now that the election was over. I knew it was the last night of our marriage. My last night to be with her. My last opportunity to turn it all around and make her love me. I thought that if I was wild and dangerous like Steve, then I might be lucky enough that she would want me back. I was imagining that scene in _Gone with the Wind_ where Rhett Butler carries his wife up the stairs telling her that for this one night she's not going to be dreaming of another man. Next scene, Scarlett wakes up singing and happy. That's how I envisioned it, the way that I—as an invincible Deveraux—could take a hopeless situation and just turn it all around and come out the victor."

"And at the time, I was so convinced that I was the better man—better family, better upbringing, better education, better job and he was just this one-eyed, two-bit pool hustler. I was such a fool. I didn't know the true worth of men and that he was a much better man than me. I didn't know their kind of love and I just didn't understand that kind of love just can't be denied. Despite how much better I may look on a job resume, I could never come between them. I see with better eyes now about the love they share and I—I know that love myself now too."

"I hoped that it would work out and she would want me. But if it didn't happen like that and she still walked out on me in the morning, then at least I would have had the memory of that one night—our last night—together as husband and wife. And that would hurt Steve too."

Jack paused; he needed to qualify his statements, "Don't think that it was just some huge misunderstanding or wishful thinking on my part that spiraled out of control. I pulled her down on the couch and told her many times 'I'm going to make love to you,' and the unspoken part of that sentence was 'whether you like it or not.'"

The whole time Jack had spoken, he was looking at Dr. Baker's painting and not at Jennifer. He was scared to turn around and see her reaction. He was worried he would see hateful eyes. He could handle sickened eyes or devastated eyes, but not hateful eyes, or worse the placating, complacent eyes that lovesick Melissa had when she had learned the truth.

Jack turned around and saw Jennifer's eyes were sad and distraught. He wanted to rush to her, kneel in front of her, and beg her forgiveness. He could never do that with Kayla, but he wanted Jennifer's. He wanted Jennifer to forgive him for not waiting for her like she had waited for him. He wanted to beg forgiveness of ever being that type of man with that past—about Kayla and the prostitutes and having Steve assaulted and using her cousin Melissa and helping Harper escape from prison and cheating Diana out of the Spectator. He should have been stronger and a better man without that dark past so that he wouldn't have to be subjecting her to this now. He wanted to be a man that had _always_ been worthy of her. However, Jack stayed still and didn't run to kneel at her feet; he needed to maintain his resolve and objectivity to get through this. Looking at Jennifer, the judgment that he expected, the judgment he knew he deserved from her never came.

Jennifer looked up at him with pitying eyes. Her heart ached with compassion—not compassion that she freely doled out, but compassion that she knew he had _earned_. Earned from his actions and love that he had shown to her for such a long time. Earned because he was strong enough to speak of the worst of himself. Compassion that Lawrence did not deserve and probably never would deserve.

Jennifer finally spoke, softly but clearly "I have no more questions."

Jack cleared his throat and started speaking as before, "I'm not quite done. You asked 'Did I hear Kayla say no?' and that answer was yes. So you could ask, 'Hearing her say no, how could I go on?'"

Jennifer shook her head. She didn't want to hear more. She knew that what Jack had told her that night in the mansion when she first asked the question was correct. His answers wouldn't bring her peace about Lawrence. His answers would not explain Lawrence's actions. All the haunting questions that were torturing her about Lawrence could not be helped from his description of what he had done to Kayla. It was torture to him and to her and in the end, not provide any solace or explanation about Lawrence. Even Jack as he had been three years ago was far different from Lawrence. There never was and never will be any viable comparison between these two men. Regardless of how the world (or Jack!) might want to equate the two men because of their crime.

"I need to finish this. At least up to a certain point of what happened that night. After which, more detail would just be betraying Kayla's privacy. I stole knowledge from her that I had no right to and the very least I can do is to keep that knowledge to myself. However, there was a moment that night. I had pushed up her dress." He looked at Jennifer and said to her directly, "this isn't pretty." Jennifer nodded. "I had pushed up her dress and taken off my pants and I was on top of her, holding her down, pushing down on her left shoulder. She was looking away from me even as she was trying to push me off of her. I put my hand on her chin and forced her to turn and look at me. In that moment, all illusions were stripped away. I knew this was NOT a wild and crazy time for her that would make her re-evaluate her future and want to stay with me. I knew in that moment that she wouldn't be singing and smiling in the morning like Scarlett O'Hara. I had the opportunity to stop. To end it all, before I actually…penetrated…her. I would've been an even more pathetic loser, but not a rapist. I had the chance to stop, knowing the truth, and I didn't. From that moment on, it was definitely rape and I knew as it was happening, that it was rape. And I did it anyway. I will spend the rest of my life dealing and analyzing that choice."

Jack stopped there. To speak of the aftermath would be to tell of Kayla's reaction and that would betray her privacy. "I'm done. I've nothing left to say."

Jennifer wasn't ready to speak. She was trying to process it all. So Dr. Baker spoke first. "Jack, I know that was very difficult for you to say and Jennifer, I know that was very difficult for you to hear. I'd like to have individual sessions with both of you soon so we can discuss about what was said today. I would like to see if there was anything Jennifer would like to say now. I don't want to put you on the spot though. Jennifer?"

Jennifer was a torrent of emotions. She felt sorry for Kayla. She felt sorry for the Jack that he had been before that night. Most of all, she felt sorry that she had asked this of Jack at all. Now that she knew, she wanted to forget. She wished she had never asked. Wished she had never thought it necessary to travel down this road. Wished she had never asked him to put these images into her mind. Part of her knew he was right. She didn't want forbidden, unspoken words between them. Not if they were going to have a future together. But now that it was known, she was unsure of how to move forward.

"I love you Jack," she started. "That will never change. But that isn't really the issue at this moment, I suppose."

Jack nodded. Love wasn't really the issue. However, he could feel their future and their life slipping away.

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Before Jennifer and Jack exited out of the Dr. Baker's office, both promised to schedule individual sessions with her. Neither of them knew what to say or how to proceed. They both stood in the hospital hallway in an awkward silence. Jack wanted to escape. Jennifer was struggling with her conflicting and contradictory feelings. Both did have the same question running through their mind.

 _Where do we go from here?_

Jack pointed at the stairwell, "Umm, I have to get back to the office now. We'll talk later?"

Jennifer nodded, "Thanks. Thank you again for coming with me to a counseling session."

Jack wasn't sure at all if 'thanks' was appropriate or necessary considering the circumstances. "Sure. Sure. You're welcome to come over later...of course…like always."

Jennifer nodded, but then she decided not to pretend that she would be over later just to make things easier in this moment. "Umm, Jack, I think…tonight…I'll stay back at my place…at the loft. Umm, Frankie's gonna think I've moved out entirely if I don't stay over every once in a while."

Jack knew this was coming. He had expected it and tried to act like he was fine. However, he still felt like he'd just been sucker punched in the gut.

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Jennifer couldn't handle going to the elevators; she would have to pass the nurse's station and bunches of people and she just wanted to escape and avoid seeing anyone. She ducked into the stairwell and collapsed on the concrete step.

She had her elbows propped up on her knees, her hands over her face. She had made a disastrous mistake. Images, unbidden and unwanted, were clamoring into her mind. She tried to block them, shake them away, but they just kept assaulting her.

To see Jack, her precious Jack, in that role. He had done it. She knew he had done it since long, long before there had ever been even a whisper of them together. She had always known it; before she came to work for Jack, before she befriended him, before she flirted with him, before she kissed him, before she loved him, before she told him she loved him, before she made love to him, before she agreed to marry him, before he had told her in some detail about what had been going on in his mind on that fateful night. _So why did it change things now?_ She wasn't being fair. She knew it! But yet, things had changed, just like Jack had feared. Just like Jack had warned her. He'd warned her about Lawrence. He'd warned her about speaking of his past and she had been naïve and convinced herself that everything would be okay.

But things were different now in her mind. She wanted to apologize to Jack, say that she wished they had never gone down this road. She was sorry for being unfair. But unfair or not, she needed some distance from Jack at this moment. She needed to take a step back, reassess, and decide once more if she could take the leap with him.

Jennifer heard the stairwell door open up and she quickly swiped at her tears.

"Jennifer?"

She silently cursed. It was someone who knew her. She looked up and saw Dr. Baker; she'd switched from her high-heeled sling-backs into tennis shoes and had apparently planned to jog the stairwell for her lunchtime exercise.

Plans were changed now. Dr. Baker offered her hand to Jennifer. Jennifer took it and they walked back together the ten paces to Dr. Baker's office.

"Do you want to talk?" Dr. Baker offered.

"That's what people do in your office, isn't it?" Jennifer replied glumly.

"Not always. Some people go shopping. I had one patient who spent an entire session trying to buy that garage sale painting off of me." Dr. Baker indicated the one behind Jennifer.

"This one?" Jennifer rose up and stared at it. Dr. Baker smiled. No one else ever noticed that painting except Jack and now Jennifer. "I bet it was Jack, wasn't it?"

"Can't say. Patient-client confidentiality. Tell me about what I walked in on."

It was tough for Jennifer to get started, "I—I didn't want to go home with Jack tonight. We've been together every night for the past week or so—not intimate, of course, just together. And it's been wonderful. He makes me feel comfortable in my own skin—I wasn't feeling like that for a long time. I don't have nightmares when I'm with him. But I just couldn't…today."

"That's understandable. You heard a lot. It's a lot to take in; to see both the light and the dark. To hear it now with everything that you are going through. But tell me, if you had gone home with him tonight, what would it have meant? What would it have signified?"

"Betrayal," she blurted out and then she immediately tried to swallow that word back. "No, that's not what I meant."

Dr. Baker nudged her forward gently, "Betrayal of whom?"

Jennifer shook her head. "I shouldn't have said that. That's not what I meant."

"Jennifer, it's just you and me here. You need to be okay with your feelings. Admit them, analyze them, and then decide where you want to put them. Do you want those feelings up on a high shelf where you can look at them but can't reach them or do you want those feelings on your night stand and part of your everyday life?"

Jennifer's mind was cloudy and conflicted and she struggled with Dr. Baker's metaphor, "I want to feel whole again. I want to be with Jack. Those are my feelings that I want to be front and center. That's what I want for my life."

Dr. Baker looked pleased, like they were making progress. "Okay, we need to get there though. There are other feelings that you have. We need to deal with those first and decide where you want to place those. You can't decide without first analyzing and dealing with your feelings one-by-one. Can you do that?"

Jennifer nodded. "Can we do something first though. You were about to exercise in the stairwell when you saw me and you interrupted that. Why don't we jog the stairs together?"

Dr. Baker considered her request. It was unorthodox, but Jennifer was having a hard time opening up. Dr. Baker knew some of Jennifer's history. She had been abandoned by her mother in a bus station and her mother had been in an institution for years. Her father had put her into a boarding school in Switzerland instead of raising her himself. Jennifer probably always felt she needed to be lively and vivacious and to please people or they would abandon her. Admitting any slightest bit of weakness, any bit of need for herself instead of giving to others and she feared people would not need her and abandon her once more. Even now, she was subjugating herself in the aftermath of being raped. She had bottled up those feelings and hadn't willingly told anyone but her therapist. Dr. Baker knew that Jack had found out through other sources that learned by accident. She also worried that Jennifer prevented herself from getting too emotional or indulging too many of her feelings out of fear that she would lose control and become unhinged like her mother.

Dr. Baker suspected that if Jennifer thought she was too 'high-maintenance', too much emotional trouble or bother for someone, then she would lose that person just as she lost her parents. Therefore, she made her feelings and her traumas as unobtrusive as possible to everyone around her. Even with her therapist, Jennifer had 'inconvenienced' her by interrupting her lunchtime exercise and Jennifer, instead of focusing on her intense personal hell was worried about Dr. Baker's calorie burn.

"I'll tell you what," Dr. Baker replied, "we'll go jogging in the stairs if you consider my question and answer it when we come back to my office."

"Question?" Jennifer asked, dreading to be called to account for her heedless answer earlier.

"Who would you be betraying and why if you went to Jack's home tonight?"

"Oh, that question."

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Jack knocked on the door of Steve's and Kayla's house and silently prayed that Steve would answer the door. Fate, for once, smiled on him. Steve opened the door and Jack backed up to the edge of the porch. Steve smiled; he knew this would be a recurring theme for them for a long time.

"Porch swing?" Steve offered. Jack nodded. "What's going on?"

"Jennifer and I are over," Jack said forlorn.

Steve smiled again; almost chuckled.

Jack snarled, "I'm glad you find this so amusing. Thank you very much."

"Jack, Jack. Say 'we're going through some difficult times' or say 'sometimes…that…woman.' But don't say that you're over. Don't you understand by now that you two will never be over? You two are soulmates. She is the love of your life and you are the love of her life. Take it from one who knows. If I had a nickel for every time that _I_ thought that Kayla and I were over then I'd be as rich as you. And you know what? We're not over and we never will be. And neither will you and Jennifer." Steve lightly punched Jack's chest. "That's why I was laughing, little brother, because you remind me too much of me."

Jack managed a weak smile merely for his brother's sake.

"So, why are you two over this week?"

Jack didn't want to say. His brother was in a teasing, jocular mood and he didn't want to ruin that. However, he didn't want to be infuriatingly and tiresomely vague once more either. "I went to Jennifer's counseling session with her. I offered to go and I went knowing that she'd want to discuss…my past. I told her everything…about me….about then. I was… _brutally_ honest about the whole thing."

Jack was right; he watched his brother's mood change.

Steve knew this was inevitable. After what happened to Jennifer, he knew that Jack and Jennifer would both have to confront Jack's past. He worked hard to stay in the moment and deal with this Jack—and forget the Jack from all those years ago. After a long moment, Steve finally said, "I thought you didn't want to tell her."

Jack couldn't look at his brother. As much as he needed to talk about this with Steve and Steve was allowing the discussion, they were trampling on the past and through some very difficult painful times. Jack hated reminding Steve once more of who he had been. "I didn't, but then I was hoping we were everything that you just said—soulmates and such—and if so, then I couldn't hide myself away from her forever. I need to just say it and get it done so we could move on."

"And you can't move on now?"

"Well, she's not wanting to move on with me. She's been staying over at the penthouse," At the mention of the penthouse, Steve looked confused and Jack realized he'd need to go off on a tangent. "Yeah, moved out of Harper's house. Couldn't stay there anymore with the ghosts. Got a new place. 300 Devon. Forgot to tell you."

Steve smiled a little. That was such a typical guy thing. Move and forget to tell anyone. "I probably would have figured it out eventually."

"Anyway, she's been sleeping over at my place for more than a week, with me holding her. We haven't been doing anything more than that, but it just felt great having her there. She said it was keeping the nightmares away."

"That's good. And…?" Steve nudged.

"And now she back to sleeping at the loft. I guess she prefers the sleeping kind of nightmare instead of this living nightmare," Jack tapped his chest indicating himself as 'the living nightmare.'

Steve rolled his eyes, "Jack, everything I said earlier still applies. You and Jennifer _are not over_. But firstly, you need to accept your past and stop going around like some wounded puppy. Secondly, Jennifer loves you and will want to come back to you. Thirdly, until she does, keep yourself busy."

"Really? That's your advice? I'm a wounded puppy and get a hobby?"

"Yeah. If you wanted mothering, you'd have gone to Mama. By 'wounded puppy,' I mean that I don't think that _you_ have really gotten past your past. Not just Jennifer, but probably also you. You're embarrassed by it, I know, but I also think you're scared. You're still too fragile and you don't have the confidence yet that you won't return to being that guy." Steve poked at Jack's chest, "You need to become strong within yourself. You need to be confident—like I am—that nasty Jack is gone forever. Until you are though, then it's going to be difficult for you to move on—to become a husband, to become a father. Think of yourself, twenty years from now, are things going to still be as awkward and tense between you and Kayla?"

Jack shook his head, "God, I hope not."

"And why not?" Steve pressed. Jack stammered, unable to answer right away so Steve answered for him. "Because sometime within the next twenty years, you need to deal with demons and put them to rest for good."

Jack looked down; Steve had hit too close to what was really bothering him. Steve recognized that too. "Want to talk about those demons yet?" Steve asked.

Jack remembered his dreams; the memory of them still haunted him. He shook his head.

Steve heard Stephanie crying and stood up from the swing to go relieve Kayla, "And as for a hobby, best hobby I can think of is you investigating Lawrence. How's that going?"

"Steve, please don't change the subject," Jack said plaintively, "I'm…., just really quick, because I don't want to keep you from Stephanie. Did I do the right thing? I never seem to know."

Steve took pity on him and patted his back, "If your motives were to try a build an honest and open life with her instead of giving her a reason to push you away, then, yes, you were doing the right thing." Steve paused and measured Jack's reaction, "But only you can answer that."


	13. Chapter 13

After one hour of jogging up and down the hospital stairs, breathless and sweaty, Jennifer collapsed on the couch in Dr. Baker's office. It felt good though. The exercise had driven away all thought and provided a brief respite from the memories of what Lawrence had done or the images that Jack had described.

Jennifer liked the sensation of feeling exhausted and downed a tall glass of water that Dr. Baker offered her.

Dr. Baker wasn't going to let her off the hook though, "When you catch your breath and gather your thoughts, let's pick up where were left off. Finish your previous thought. Who would you be betraying if you went home to Jack's place tonight?"

Jennifer still didn't answer and Dr. Baker realized that would be a very difficult truth for Jennifer to acknowledge. "Yourself?" Dr. Baker pressed. "Kayla?"

"I'm not trying to be difficult. I know I promised to think about it, but I just can't explain it right now."

"You don't need to worry about being difficult. It's okay. This is for you; not for me. I'm pursuing it because it might help you, but we can table that discussion for another day-once you've had some time to process everything that Jack said on your own. Let's not talk about Jack today. Can you tell me who you have told about the rape?"

"Jack."

"But you didn't tell Jack. If I understand correctly, he found out from his brother Steve who learned it accidentally."

"Well, yes," Jennifer conceded, "But I did tell Jack, in excruciating detail, everything that…Lawrence did."

"Besides Jack, who else do you think you could tell?"

"No one," she said immediately.

"No one else?"

Jennifer stopped and considered who else she might tell. Not Carly-she had willingly gone to bed with Lawrence, they had dated. And Carly felt guilty enough already for putting Lawrence within her life. She couldn't heap more guilt onto her. And she couldn't tell Alice. Alice wasn't well and she was her grandmother. Jennifer had a difficult enough time trying to talk about sex with her Grandma, she couldn't put these awful images into her head. Jennifer just couldn't do it. Not Frankie either, she knew it would be too difficult for him. He had feelings for her and would feel guilty too because he had lied about being Francois Von Leuschner. He knew that she married Lawrence to protect him. Even telling Melissa right now would be difficult as she was mourning Emilio.

"No. No one else," Jennifer answered.

Dr. Baker wanted to see if a suspicion was correct. "The people in your life that you don't think you could tell, is it because you don't think they would be a help to you or do you believe you would be too much of a burden to them."

Jennifer balked at both of Dr. Baker's suggestions, "Neither. Telling them would hurt them too much. I want to spare them. I don't want Carly or Frankie to feel responsible and my grandmother-well, she's my Grandma. I would no more want to talk to her about this than I would tell her what sexual positions I prefer."

"That's a misguided analogy, Jennifer," Dr. Baker said. "Rape has nothing to do with sex. That man didn't rape you because of sexual desire. Why did he?"

Jennifer remembered back to the lecture she got from Lawrence the morning after-that she had played a dangerous game and gotten off easy. "Control. Power. To show that he could," Jennifer answered. She remembered his blackmail attempt back here in Salem, "Money."

Dr. Baker's eyes grew wide when Jennifer said 'money.' That was an unheard of motive for her.

"You're not to blame. And I think if you tell other people, then you will realize that you're not to blame even more than you've already realized it with Jack. You will see that what you're worried about right now will not turn out to be true. You will realize that most people won't feel guilty for some imagined contribution to putting you in that situation. They will feel hurt for you and angry at him."

"But I don't want them to feel hurt for me," Jennifer replied.

"Why not?"

"Because I care about them, of course. I don't want them to get hurt or feel hurt…because of me," Jennifer replied in a near-testy tone like she was speaking self-evident truths. It should be as obvious to anyone as saying water is wet.

"Aren't you worth it?" Dr. Baker pressed.

That question surprised Jennifer. _Am I worth it?_ "I suppose so, but that's not something one should answer for oneself. That's for other people to decide for themselves."

"Well, you know these people, so tell me what they would say. For example, would Jack say you are worth it?"

 _Oh yes._ "Definitely."

"Frankie? "

"Yes."

"Your grandma?"

"Yes."

"Your cousin," she consulted her notes, "Melissa?"

"Yes,"

"Your parents?"

That stopped Jennifer. She hoped so. She wanted to believe so. "They have their own issues," Jennifer said. That was the best she could manage about them. "Look, it's not my mother's fault. She can't help the way she is." Jennifer switched her weight back and forth on the sofa. She was not expecting this to transform into parental issues. "I'd rather not talk about them."

Dr. Baker didn't want it to drop so easily. "Jennifer, we all deal with traumas in different ways and each different way is okay. I'm just here to help facilitate you climbing over any walls that you might have constructed in your mind that might make things more difficult for you. Perhaps I can offer you an alternative perspective.

Jennifer didn't say anything more; she didn't want to address her parents. She knew she must be exasperating to Dr. Baker and felt bad about that. She didn't want to answer her question from earlier about 'betrayal', she didn't want to talk about her parents.

Dr. Baker tried a different tack. "Tell me about someone that you don't get along with."

Jennifer was confused by the question, "There's Lawrence. I don't get along with him."

"Besides him, who do you seem to always butt heads with?"

"Well, there's Eve."

Eve sounded more promising to Dr. Baker. "Why don't you get along with her?"

"Why?"

"Well, sometimes it is easier to see some aspects of ourselves through the unfiltered eyes of someone we don't get along with. Sometimes, their honesty can be refreshing and more illuminating than those close to us who would never want to hurt our feelings. So, with that in mind, can you explain why you two don't get along?"

"Well, she does underhanded, sneaky things and she accuses me of being Miss Perfect."

"What do you think she means by that?"

"I don't know. Manners and decency are lost on her I guess."

"Yes. And obviously no one is perfect. But from what you're saying, she calls you 'Miss Perfect' because you hold things back and don't say every thought in your head because you're considering the other person's feelings. And that's all well and good. However, I'd like you to consider in this instance if you aren't taking it too far and perhaps closing yourself too much from other people because you are thinking about their feelings more than your own." Dr. Baker leaned forward, "Jennifer, now more than ever, you need to take care of yourself and you can rely on the people around you. People want to support you. You were concerned about whether Jack would be able to do that when he learned the truth, weren't you?"

Jennifer nodded.

"And has that proven true?"

"No, he's been great. He's really helped me."

"Give your other friends and family a chance to prove themselves too. They want to help you, I'm sure. Your friends and family love you and won't abandon you."

Jennifer started feeling dread again with Dr. Baker's direction, "Is this about my parents again?"

Dr. Baker decided it best to end the session. "Jennifer, between now and our next session, I want you to think about it and tell at least one person that you trust about what you have gone through. Okay?"

Jennifer nodded. She thought she could handle that.

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Jack arrived home at the penthouse that evening. He had been torn between going to the Cheating Heart and drinking or just coming to the penthouse. He decided he didn't want to see people so he came here. It was tough walking through the door. It would be the first night that he spent here without her and already the place felt cavernous and empty. With her, it was home. Without her, it was just a penthouse and he'd never call it a home otherwise unless she was here with him.

Of course he expected this. He knew that she wouldn't wave it off, dismiss it like it was nothing after hearing his full unvarnished truth. What else did he expect her to say after hearing his monstrous truth? _'Let's go home and cuddle'?_

Jennifer was scared; she was apprehensive; she was reticent. Jack knew all that. But what else was she? Was she disgusted? Was she revolted? Was she resolved to never let him touch her again?

As a woman, how could Jennifer hear him describe all the sickening things he had done-forcing up another woman's dress, holding her down, forcing another woman to have sex with the full knowledge that it was rape-and not feel sick?

Jack went out onto the balcony of the penthouse; he needed to feel the cold air. He started to huddle up to protect against the cold and he wanted to fight against that instinct. He could see his breath and started shivering. He turned up his collar and spread his arms wide feeling the wind on his palms, which sent tingles up his arms and to his spine. He just needed to open up and accept whatever life sent his way. Fate had been incredibly kind to him this last year-too kind. Better than he deserved.

He wanted to stay out here a while. The stars already were blanketing the night sky.

He spotted Orion, the hunter, close to the horizon, almost due east. He scanned the western sky and spotted Scorpio, Orion's eternal nemesis. The two were locked in an timeless struggle, always destined to circle each other around the heavens. They would never come to a resolution; one would never be victorious, the other never defeated. He projected that battle back onto himself. And wondered how long his heroic, loving side would have to continue fighting with his inner demons.

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Jennifer arrived home at the loft. She set down her purse on the kitchen counter and stopped to look around the place. She hadn't been home, really home, except for a mad dash in and out to grab some clothes for almost two weeks. She scanned the loft; Jack was everywhere. There were hundreds of memories of Jack all over the loft-most good, many funny, many poignant or romantic, a few that were heartbreaking.

She looked at one section of the floor. This is where he kissed her when he had the painters remodeling the place to throw Victor off Isabella's track. Jennifer's glance shifted. That is where he sat when he gave her the Hope Chest on Christmas Eve and that's where he stood when he proposed as Santa Claus. This is where they bickered about what they were packing for the Loretta cruise. That's where she caught him singing 'The Girl from Ipanema.' That is where he stood when he yelled at her, 'Who were you talking about if you weren't talking about me?!' after she had slapped him and called him a rapist.

And there was the couch.

She didn't want to mull over the ramifications of the other couch-Kayla's couch.

She knew, she knew now the havoc he had wrought upon Kayla's life. How could she treat it as nothing? She did love Jack; she loved him with her whole heart, but did that imply to Kayla or to the world in general that she thought what he had done meant nothing?

Was she betraying herself as a person or as a woman by loving Jack? Was she betraying Kayla? Could she move forward with Jack knowing everything he had been and everything he represented even though that was not him anymore?

She hoped she could. She wanted her life with Jack. But wanting and having were two different things. There was a wall between them now. She needed to take some time and just stare at the wall, knowing that Jack and their future was on the other side. Jennifer needed to decide what to do about that wall.

She remembered her now-beloved passage from Romeo and Juliet. Now beloved because Jack had quoted it to her when he proposed and then again in the Heart after he learned she had been raped. The passage was all about walls and boundaries and overcoming those obstacles.

 _With love's light wings did I o'erprch these walls,_

 _For stony limits cannot hold love out,_

 _And what love can do, that dares love attempt._

All the walls that she and Jack had needed to overcome during their courtship had been of his creation or external ones. She had never thrown down roadblocks and had never determinedly turned away from him. She was amazed that after everything she had gone through just to be with him that she was finding herself in that position now.

She had also been thinking about her private discussions with Dr. Baker. She had hinted that Jennifer was hiding, hindering her recovery because she was too scared-not of people's reactions-but too scared of 'inconveniencing' them and causing them too much worry. And that fear was possibly a holdover of thinking she might have been too much of an inconvenience for her parents.

She had for weeks after she got home from Lawence's country tried to swallow her emotions, tried to deny that anything was wrong. And she didn't just do that with Jack, but with everyone-including Melissa, her Grandma, Carly, and Frankie. She might have had one excuse or another to keep the truth from Jack, Carly, or her Grandma, but she really was straining beyond all reason to justify not telling Frankie or Melissa. By keeping it a secret, she had allowed Lawrence more access into her life because he knew that he could blackmail her and as long as he could blackmail her then she would never really be free of him. She delayed dealing with the rape and she knew that each day she delayed dealing with it or confronting it was another day that she delayed her healing and being able to resume her normal life.

She wondered if there was any truth to Dr. Baker's words. She had been fine, going through life great up until Lawrence. What he did, the havoc he wrought upon her life, would uproot anyone's existence, but she was having trouble telling people. She was having trouble truly expressing her feelings, preferring to push them down and deny them instead. Very rarely, probably only that once in the cabin did she every show anger. Jack had playfully pinned her down trying to get back his pen and it sent her reeling back to the rape. She yelled for a brief moment and then had to escape for a walk. Was this the way she dealt with things that were too difficult? She had barely even acknowledged let alone dealt with Emilio's death and they were almost married!

Was she reacting in a way to minimize the 'trouble' she caused other people out of a subconscious worry that they would abandon her in a bus station or ship her off to boarding school? Did she stifle her feelings and her emotions because she needed to keep a tight grip and not dissolve into a puddly mess and slip down into madness like her mother? Was she really making herself into a non-entity by denying her feelings, denying her anger, and not allowing other people to help her?

She swam through the dangerous thoughts looking for the safe harbours amid the storm in her mind-the lighthouses, the fixed points that she could always count on. She knew she had several friends, but two people stood out over all the rest-her Grandma and Jack.

Jack. Despite everything, she knew she could rely on him…always.

Jennifer looked to the stairs, remembering Jack was in her bedroom too. They had made love in her bedroom a few times after they returned from the island. She dreaded mounting the stairs though, knowing that, without Jack, her nightmares would inevitably return.

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Pale light shone through uncurtained windows in Jack's bedroom. He had taken Steve's advice and decided to go to Europe to investigate Alamain's past there. He wasn't about to return to Lawrence's country though. He knew that Lawrence had friends highly placed in the government and was worried that if he returned there, then the customs and immigration people would not let him leave, or worse, manufacture some excuse to lock him away in prison. Jack was flying to Europe later that day after his appointment with Dr. Baker and wanted to bank as much rest as possible; however, sleep was evading him like truth had so many times in his life. Still not wanting to wake up, he turned away from the window only to see Jennifer's vacant half of the bed. So he flipped back to face the window. He repeated the sequence several times before groaning in frustration and tossed over to his stomach.

Jack spent the morning clearing his desk at the Spectator of all necessary decisions before he flew overseas. He had a lunchtime appointment with Dr. Baker and then the limousine was going to drive him to Chicago for his flight. It was quicker that way than going to the Salem airport and dealing with layovers.

He wasn't really dreading his talk with Dr. Baker; the damage was already done. The worst already said. Besides, he was too focused and concentrating on other tasks to worry. It was just on his checklist of things. He'd promised to follow up and he'd promised in front of Jennifer. He would keep the appointment, if only to say truthfully to Jennifer that he had.

At lunchtime, Jack sauntered into Dr. Baker's office. Actually, he almost swaggered. Dr. Baker gave a passing worry that he might be drunk from his demeanor. But she didn't need to smell his breath, she knew he was just covering up for his deep-seated anxiety and the false bravado was all a cover for how much he was worried and scared about the long-term ramifications of his confession the day before.

He plopped into a seat, but his nervous energy didn't allow him to stay there long, so he quickly rose up again and circled the office like a caged tiger. "Tell me doctor. What did you think? Now that the long strip tease of these therapy sessions is over and I stand before you completely exposed and with all secrets revealed. Everything hidden has now come to light. Come on doctor. Judge me."

Dr. Baker would not mirror his behavior, she responded evenly, professionally, "I'm not here to judge. I'm here to guide."

"I'm not asking you to guide. I'm asking you to speak. Think. Speak about what you think."

"I thought it was sad. I thought it was sad that you could do that to your life."

Jack rolled his eyes; that was not the truth. It might be the non-threatening, non-illuminating, non-helpful answer that a therapist is expected to give, but it wasn't the truth. "Oh, come now doctor. Of all the people in this whole sad story, I'm the last person you should feel sorry for." Jack paused and poked his chest. "I'm NOT the victim here." Jack paced the room, his heart rate rising in indignation for everyone else, "Feel sorry for Kayla. Feel sorry for Jennifer. They're the real victims here. Feel sorry for my brother; he endured hell too, believe me I know now. Feel sorry for my mother for having a rapist as a son, but not me. Never me."

Dr. Baker kept her gaze measured and steady, "And yet I do. I feel sorry that you learned too late about your capacity for moral strength. I feel sorry on behalf of the decent man I have come to know over these last six months."

Jack stood here looking at her for a long moment. "Did Jennifer tell you she doesn't want to be with me anymore?"

Dr. Baker narrowed her eyes, "Jack you know I can't divulge anything that another patient says to me. Did she say that to you?"

Jack shook his head, "No, but I still understood her message well enough. She has been staying over with me and yesterday, she said she couldn't."

"Well, that doesn't sound the same as 'she doesn't want to be with you anymore.' Why don't you wait and see if that is what really happens. Do you want to talk about Jennifer's reaction after what you said yesterday?"

Jack shook his head. He'd done enough soul-bearing already this week. He couldn't handle anymore. Besides, he only came to this session to say he had done it. He didn't want to actually…talk…about important things.

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The sun reached its zenith as Jennifer arrived at the front door of the Horton house. Jennifer was taking an extended lunch break from WATB; she was doing the late news tonight at the station so Dan was fine with her not reporting back until 3:00 p.m. She knew that her Grandmother wasn't at the hospital today and her grandfather probably was. She preferred it that way for the conversation she wanted to have.

Tentatively, she knocked at her grandmother's door. It took a moment, but Alice opened the door, traces of flour on her apron. Jennifer smiled; it was doughnut-making day. Zebra stripes of light peered in through the blinds, providing scant illumination in the foyer.

"Is this a good time?" Jennifer asked, careful to appear calm and collected in case her grandpa was home or the doughnuts were about to go in the fryer.

"Of course. Perfect timing actually. The doughnuts are still warm if you want one." Alice answered back; she had been concerned about Jennifer ever since their talk in the hospital break room a few weeks back. Ever since, Jennifer had not wanted to divulge anything more to her and Alice had respected that, but always kept the doughnuts ready and waiting just in case a day like today ever came.

"Is grandpa here?"

"No, it's just us."

That broke down all of Jennifer's barriers. She reached out and captured Alice in a long hug and she started to cry. "I need you Grandma," she confessed.

Alice was expecting this, but dreading it all the same, dreading to have her worst fears confirmed. She began slowly, measuredly, cutting the silence as carefully as with a scalpel. "What's wrong my child?"

Jennifer pulled out of the hug but stayed close. She kept her head down; her eyes stayed focused on her lap. "I'm hurting," she admitted. It was tough for her to start this way-to tell her feelings first instead of just saying what had happened. "Lawrence hurt me. He forced me to..."

Jennifer couldn't say the words, but she had said enough for Alice. She finished her sentence for her, "He raped you." Her voice was gentle and compassionate.

Jennifer wanted to draw up into herself, make herself small. The air around was feeling oppressive, compressing, like it was pushing her and creating this enormous pressure all around her that she just couldn't fight against. Slowly, she nodded. Still this was tough for Jennifer; she knew her grandmother had seen a lot and endured a lot. Her grandmother could help her and give her the advice and support she needed. Her grandmother's life wasn't all apple pie and doughnuts. But still, Jennifer felt guilty for bringing this to her grandmother's door.

Sex was never an easy topic to discuss, but then Jennifer reminded herself that this wasn't about sex. This was about violence; this was about attacking someone and humiliating them in the worst way, the most degrading way, the most personal way possible. With rape, sex was only the means—not the end.

Alice lifted up Jennifer's chin with her finger to look into her eyes, "This wasn't your fault; I hope you know that."

Jennifer nodded; she knew that in her head, but she had been blaming herself, questioning her actions for so long now that her doubt still easily crept in. It felt amazing that was usually one of the first things people say—'You are not to blame' in order to contradict one of the first things that rape victims think—'she is to blame.' Is that reaction, that belief instinctual—almost automatic? Is blaming the rape victim something done by society, by the rapist, by a combination? There almost seems to be like there is a recipe for getting past rape—1) acknowledge you're not to blame, 2) take charge of your life, 3) get intimate again with the boyfriend. Obviously that was simplifying it down some, but it almost seemed as rote and as regimented as Alice Horton's procedure for making doughnuts.

"I know," Jennifer said, finally looking up at grandmother.

Alice already suspected this truth, "It was at his villa?"

Jennifer nodded. "You're the first person I've told—who didn't know already. I just really needed you to know. It's been really hard for me. Far harder than I thought anything could be and I tried so hard and for so long to pretend that it didn't matter. No more substantive than a bad date or someone making a pass at me. But it wasn't like that, Grandma, it wasn't like that at all."

Jennifer buried her face in her hands and then fell against Alice's chest once more. Alice wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight. Alice may have lacked physical strength, but she possess mental and emotional strength equivalent to ten armies. She put all that strength into her arms and tried to pass that to Jennifer to make her feel secure, loved, and validated.

Alice's intentions were working for Jennifer. She let them stay like that; feeling wrapped securely in her grandmother's arms. "He stole so much from me. I don't think I'll ever be the same person again and I don't know if I feel comfortable with this person I'm transforming into."

"He can't steal you; what make you fundamentally you. That will not change because of this, I promise you that."

Jennifer didn't want to argue with her grandmother, but Alice wasn't in possession of all the facts. "He's taking Jack from me. Jack means everything to me and I'm struggling now with how to continue on with him. I never would have doubted him if Lawrence, if Lawrence hadn't…hurt me. Jack knows. He found out by accident and he's been terrific, better than I ever could have imagined. He's my real, true, honest-to-God hero. And yet… And yet…. And it's so hard trying to get past what Lawrence did and then coupling that with Jack and me."

Alice pulled back out of the hug. She needed to look at Jennifer. She agreed that Jennifer's recovery from being raped shouldn't be tied and coupled with her relationship with Jack, but right or wrong they were inexorably linked.

Alice knew that an essential part of Jennifer's healing would need to include forgiving Jack and reconciling with Jack. "Look at me. This will be a difficult test for you two. Probably one of the greatest tests of your relationship. Hopefully the worst one of your relationship because I hope that life spares you any further heartache. Jack is no different now than when you first fell in love with him. You will get through this. You are an amazing, strong, self-assured woman who knows what you want from life. Six months ago you knew you wanted Jack and were confident enough in that and you were right. You'll get that confidence back."

Alice paused and ran her fingers through Jennifer's golden hair, "Lawrence stole time—he stole these last months from your life and I hope he won't steal much more of your time. Lawrence stole knowledge about you that should ever only be given. Lawrence did not steal who you fundamentally are as a person and he did not steal your future. Whether that future includes Jack is up to you, but I think your heart will remember what it knew before Lawrence ever stole anything from you."

Jennifer nodded, trying to process it all and just reveling in the comfort that only her grandmother could provide.

Jennifer still didn't know how Jack could have done it. How could he have humiliated Kayla like that? How could he have degraded her, used her, violated her? Made another woman feel anything close to what she was enduring now? _How could he?_ She knew she could never ask him that. But still, how could he have _ever_ done that and still have become the person she knew now? The two images, the two men just didn't fit together. She didn't know if she could ever reconcile the two images. She didn't want to convict Jack though; she didn't want to take out her anger towards Lawrence on him. But still she was at a loss of how to move forward with him, knowing the truth now, combating against the truth now.

She was struggling with the comparison, even though she knew it wasn't fair. Jack was nothing like Lawrence! Even from his description and she knew Jack put the most honest, least charitable, least self-serving spin on his actions from that night and she truly respected him for that. He could have equivocated; he could have left it with the _Gone with the Wind_ analogy and ended it there. But still, even in the version that he told then he was definitely not as diabolical or cruel as Lawrence had been. And yet, rape is still rape. Kayla's hell was really no different from Jennifer's so does it really matter if Jack was different from Lawrence?

Jennifer needed answers; needed guidance; needed to know not only that there was hope but that there was justification for hope as well.


	14. Chapter 14

Jennifer was alone working in the WATB video library going through some archival footage for an upcoming news story. Several days had passed since she had gone with Jack to Dr. Baker's. They hadn't spoken since that day. Jennifer knew that Jack was waiting, patiently waiting, for her to contact him. She wasn't trying to be cruel to Jack and she really hoped he knew that.

While there in the WATB video library, she spotted a video on a shelf she hadn't noticed before; it was labeled: 'Deveraux, Jack —1988'. She stared at it for a long moment. 1988 was a cataclysmic year for Jack she knew and much of it had played out on the news. Many moments in his life that hadn't mattered to her at the time now took on vital importance for her now and for her future. How much had been captured by the news cameras? Curiosity got the better of her and she grabbed the videotape off the shelf and slid it into the machine.

The video started out with several campaign speeches; on the docks, at the hospital, at his campaign headquarters. Jack looked and sounded so idealistic, so golden. She hadn't known him well in those days and seeing him so optimistic and open was a revelation. She knew many politicians from being a journalist and had to sit through several of their boring speeches filled with platitudes or self-serving diatribes. Jack's speeches were nothing like that. His campaign speeches had been passionate, genuine, and honest. If that earnest Jack had been able to continue on in politics, then he would have been an amazing statesman, a legendary diplomat. She mourned the loss of him. She watched those campaign speeches with a fearful sense of foreboding and melancholy. She knew what was coming. She knew that Jack—that 'pre-election-night Jack—was about to disappear forever. Jack was about to be forever changed. She wondered once more what might have been for Jack if he hadn't derailed his life from this promising trajectory; she hoped they would have still fallen in love. But that Jack wouldn't have known quite the same darkness and hell. She had seen glimpses of that golden Jack, but the caustic, sarcastic, though infinitely loveably and infinitely more self-aware Jack was his dominant personality now.

Then the compilation video showed Jack on election night. Harper, Angelica, and a brief glimpse of Steve showed they were beaming with pride at his win. Jack was exuberant and exultant in the interview. The next camera shot show a haunted look on Jack's face. His eyes looked dead and there wasn't the slightest hint of a smile. _Jack knew._ He could barely look at Kayla.

Jennifer felt guilty. She was snooping into his past. Knowing the circumstances in hindsight of everything that had happened, she wanted to freeze frame the video in that moment. Stop time. Change what had happened. For Kayla's sake. For Jack's sake. Jack was about to descend into the very pit of hell and Jennifer wanted desperately to stop him and to protect him from himself.

But time inexorably marches onward. The next video cut was from his inaugural speech on the waterfront. His eyes were hard now. Kayla was there; her eyes were darting around as though desperately looking for someone. Jennifer didn't fully understand the circumstances of why Kayla was there with Jack. By this time, the rape had already occurred, Jennifer knew. Jack was different than he had been during the election campaign. Now he looked like a cold-hearted politician. Jennifer had seen Jack occasionally during this period because he was dating Melissa, but she had never really studied or examined him. At the time, she saw him as absolutely gorgeous of course, but had never considered him beyond that.

Then there was a press conference of Jack with Angelica in the hospital. He was saying that although he had fallen three stories and needed a kidney transplant that he was fine, better than ever, and eager to get back to serving the people of Salem. He had the smooth veneer and politician mask in this video clip and it didn't reveal much about who he was.

The next video clip was showing the corridor at the courthouse. Instinctually, Jennifer hit the pause button as she debated her options. Jack was at the courthouse for the pre-trial hearing on the rape charges. She knew her Uncle Mickey was the district attorney prosecuting Jack. She knew the judge would find sufficient evidence to proceed to trial. She knew Jack would offer and Kayla would accept a guilty plea for assault with a suspended jail sentence. The freeze frame on the video monitor showed Jack squaring off against Steve and Kayla. The news camera looked close to them, close enough to pick up their conversation and allow Jennifer to eavesdrop. She steeled herself for what she was about witness and pressed play:

 _"Why don't you forget about this whole thing and save yourself a lot of pain and anguish?_ " Jack had said.

 _"Why don't you get out of here?"_ Steve said.

 _"You want to play hardball Kayla? I can do that. You haven't even begun to see what I can do."_ Jack said.

Jennifer shut the video off. This Jack. This Jack on the video screen. She had never seen this Jack before. His eyes were cold and vicious. He was nasty. The vision was stunning and shocking her to her core. She had heard about this Jack, but she had not seen and therefore she had not truly known. But now, there he was in this freeze-framed image before her. It amazed her once more that Jack and Steve had ever been able to reconcile and that Kayla was comfortable with him now.

Steve, Kayla, and Jack had all endured that horrific ordeal, each in their own way. These three had somehow, almost miraculously, had been able to forage their way back to being a family. She was on the outside, looking in, and not fully understanding all the intricacies of the relationships. But she understood Jack. She knew Jack and she knew how much he had wanted Steve in his life. She knew how much Kayla loved Steve to allow this. Jack had accomplished the impossible in his life. He had rebuilt his life, rebuilt himself, and had become a man redeemed and esteemed in the eyes of those he had hurt the most.

Jennifer realized the moral strength and strength of will that, having fallen into the abyss. Jack had found the ability to crawl and scratch and claw his way out of it once more. That realization was even more stunning. That the cold heartless eyes she was seeing in this video had been transformed into the warm loving eyes that she now knew. That was powerful—as powerful as a blind man being able to see once more.

She respected Jack. Not for what he had been of course, but for being that man he had been and then becoming the warm-hearted man that she knew and loved.

She looked down at her engagement ring. She wasn't engaged to the cold, snide man on the screen, she hadn't given herself to that man. Seeing that man, seeing that recording as Jack had been. Seeing his eyes, hearing him speak, she knew profoundly, utterly that man no longer existed and she should really, truly not harbor any misgivings about committing her life to him. She knew that in her head, her heart, her gut. She wanted to see Jack, throw her arms around him and say she was sorry for staying away.

But she still couldn't. She was still holding herself back. Despite this realization and acceptance of sorts, she still couldn't find her way forward or her way back to Jack.

And yet she still loved him and his ring remained on her finger.

At that moment, the video librarian came back in from her lunch break. "Hi Jennifer. Find everything you need?"

Jennifer quickly shut off the video screen and ejected the tape and surreptitiously returned it to its spot on the shelf. She didn't want to get caught watching that tape and get rumors started that would get back to Jack.

"Yes. Everything is fine. Thanks. I'm all done here." Then Jennifer recalled the memory that had been bothering her since she came back to work—the incident at the wedding dress shop where she had been shrieking and had smacked some unfortunate guy for getting flirty with his girlfriend. Ever since returning to work, she had caught people whispering about her or quickly shutting up when she entered the room. Jennifer needed to see the video evidence, see how badly she had acted at the wedding dress shop, and know what was surely getting circulated around like last month's _Playboy_. Jennifer tried not feeling embarrassed at the thought of the video being out there, but it really couldn't be helped.

"Shirley, do you have the video from the wedding story shoot?"

Shirley looked confused. "How do you mean?"

"C'mon. The one that got me suspended for three days? I know it got recorded."

Shirley's eyes looked sad and sympathetic. "There are no tapes. At least not here at the studio. You'd have to ask your boyfriend."

Now Jennifer was confused. "You mean Jack?"

"Yeah. He paid top dollar for them and called in a lot of favors to make sure that he got every last copy." Shirley gave a rueful smile, "Must be nice. I can't even get my boyfriend to pay for a nice dinner at Wings."

Jennifer sat there stunned. She hadn't known. Jack certainly hadn't told her. This whole time… God he loved her. He was an amazing man. And then a tiny part of her conscience had to sneak in a tiny word, one tiny but devastating word: _now_. He was an amazing man…now. Some small part of her kept sowing in that tiny seed of doubt and impermanence by qualifying his incredible qualities. She wanted to say that he was an amazing man…period. And that was really the crux of the issue holding her back. It was wrong. It was unfair, she knew. But was it deserved? She still was grappling with her conscience. Her heart, her head, and her gut were assured and resolved. Her conscience was still conflicted.

However, in her gut, she needed to see him.

Jennifer struggled out of her problems. She owed Shirley at least some basic pleasantries, "Thanks Shirley. I appreciate knowing that."

Jennifer rose up and headed out. She would spend her lunch hour over at the Spectator office.

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Jack had returned from Europe the day before and was still struggling with jet lag and struggling with what to do with this newfound knowledge. He had taken his brother's advice and used this time that Jennifer was keeping her distance to do some investigative searching into Lawrence's past. And good God, had he definitely succeeded.

He found it. This information was potent and powerful. Jack wasn't sure how to use it or even if he should. If Jack needed to bargain with the devil, he didn't really want to involve someone so innocent. Jack would sit on this volatile information and wait to use such news if it was ever warranted. Jack did feel more confident though. He had wondered how such a man as Lawrence could be worked on. What could Jack find that he could use as leverage over such a man as this? Jack now had his answer. He'd keep this sensitive information to himself for now and not even reveal his trip's success to Steve.

Jack was trying to focus on catching up at work, but it was difficult. Nothing felt right in his life anymore if things weren't right with Jennifer. He was giving her space and letting her make her choice, but this waiting, and especially the not-knowing was making everything worse.

If she would just give some sign that this was temporary and that they would find their way back to each other, well, that would mean everything.

Jennifer walked through the door at that moment. Jack looked skyward. He normally didn't believe in God or fate, but sometimes Jennifer just made him doubt his pessimistic beliefs and tendencies and sometimes wonder if there was really a God.

He tore his gaze from her beautiful face down to her left hand to answer a very important question. Yes, the ring was still there. He audibly exhaled in relief.

 _Dum spiro, spero_. While I breathe, I hope.

"Jack," Jennifer tentatively plunged forward. "I wanted to see you."

Jack slightly nodded, but Jennifer could tell he was hurting from his eyes. She hated what she was doing. He had opened up about his past. He hadn't wanted to but she had opened the door and he went through it only because she had asked him. And how did she respond? By pulling back. By punishing him with silence. She wanted to run into his arms and kiss him partially for her sake but mostly for his sake. But she had to fix herself first. She was getting lost in the midst of all this worry about Jack and Jack's past. As tough and seemingly cruel as it was, she needed to get right with this and work through it instead of pushing away her feelings because it was painful. She hated this. She hated causing him pain but she didn't know a better way out of this except to just go through it. She hoped it was okay to come by and see him even if she wasn't ready to commit again.

"You wanted to see me—at the office?" His unspoken question was if she wanted to resume staying over at the penthouse.

"Yes," was Jennifer's ambiguous reply.

Jack's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered. "if you've been trying to reach me, I just go back from Europe."

"Europe? Doing what?" Jennifer was surprised; she hadn't realized that she let them drift that far apart.

"Research for a story."

Jennifer let him stay vague. She knew if he wanted to tell her, then he would. "Diana called me. Lawrence had contacted her again about selling her shares of the Spectator to him. I asked her not to sell to him under any circumstances and she assured me that she never would."

Jack nodded. The paper didn't seem as important as it once did, but keeping it away from Lawrence was of paramount importance. He was glad that Lawrence's threat about the Spectator could be neutralized so easily.

"I told her," Jennifer continued. "I told her what Lawrence did…to me. She's one of the first people I told…that didn't already know, I mean. I guess it was easier over the phone."

"Good. You need more people around you to help you than just…me. I'm glad for that."

Jennifer pointed at the office door behind her, "Umm, would you like to go to the park and have a walk?"

Jack loved that she asked. Loved that she was reaching out to him. He'd say yes to anything. "Yes. Of course." He went for his scarf, gloves, and overcoat and held the door open for her as they left.

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Jennifer and Jack migrated to the park. Their conversation stayed on mundane, safe topics much like they had done after Jack learned that she had been raped and before she felt prepared to discuss it. She didn't offer why she felt it necessary to stay away or what had compelled her to come visit him in his office. She chose not to offer and Jack decided to respect that choice.

They were walking close to the ice skating rink. "Want to ice skate?" Jennifer asked, looking for something where they could be together and yet not be intense or need to talk. _Despite everything_ , she still felt the overpowering aching _need_ to be near him.

"You sure?" Jack asked hesitantly. Choosing a pastime that involved getting dirty and cold and most likely looking clumsy was not high on Jack's list of desirable things to do. However, he wanted to be with Jennifer more than he hated sports. At least it wasn't a pick-up game of basketball among the reporters at the Spectator—he loathed that.

Jennifer really tried to sell the idea, "Every winter we deal with the cold and the ice and scraping the car for 10 minutes before getting to drive anywhere and have to rush from heated building to heated car to heated store. Ice skating is one of the few good things about winter after Christmas is over."

Jack wanted to caution her, "Okay, but remember, ice skating is all about slipping and trying not to fall and needing to hold on to someone for balance and _grabbing_ on to someone when you lose your balance. I'm not that great at ice skating and therefore could lose my balance a lot and grab…at you…a lot," Jack put up his hands, "Totally because of the ice skating, of course." Jack was determined to act as optimistic and light-hearted as she did. Even if it was just a front for her. Even though it was definitely just a front for him. She was reaching out to him and needed him right now. If that meant ice skating and acting like he was carefree, then he was damn well going to do it.

"I am forewarned, but I am a great skater. I'll help you keep your balance," Jennifer gave him a small shy smile. She liked the idea of helping him out just a little with all the help he had given her. Ice skating is a lot like life, Jennifer thought. If she slipped, he's there; when he loses his balance, she's there. You could do it alone and with enough practice and patience, do well enough alone. But it's far better with someone to hold on to and she sincerely, truly wanted to hold on to Jack.

"Okay, we're agreed then; let's go ice skating," Jack tried to inject some enthusiasm. It was progress for sure. But would you like some hot chocolate to warm you up before we get our skates?"

Jennifer was feeling hopeful, "Sounds great."

"Really?" Jack asked; he didn't really want to test her, but he did want to know the boundaries. "Take my hand," he held his hand aloft, challenging her.

Jennifer saw what he needed; he needed to know if she would still be willing to touch him at all, knowing what she knew now. If even the thought of holding his hand was repellant, then ring or no ring, there really was no hope for them at all.

Jennifer didn't look into his eyes, she was worried what she might communicate with her eyes—promises she wasn't ready for or indictments that she truly didn't feel. She didn't smile either, but she brought her hand to his and gripped him tightly. Hope for the future was in that grasp.

"Okay," Jack didn't comment on the grand ramifications of her simple gesture; instead he just took her by her hand and dashed towards the concession stand. It was enough to have a light-hearted moment of freedom and joy before the impending storm.

They were halfway there when Jennifer stopped cold in her tracks. Jack turned back to look at her, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were unblinking and hard. He was confused by the sudden and profound change in her demeanor. He followed her gaze and turned back around.

There stood Lawrence.

Jack did a quick check around for the security detail that was supposed to be trailing Jennifer and preventing this exact encounter. He had heard from the agency that they had aborted several of Lawrence's attempts to bother her. They had spilled hot coffee on him a few times, disabled the elevator in her loft building with him trapped inside, tripped him, even put a cream pie in his face. He had laughed to hear of all the ways they were stopping Lawrence and laughing at the thought of the jerk's dry cleaning bill, but still was concerned that there had been so many attempts by Lawrence to harass her.

Unfortunately, this was probably a chance encounter, not one by Lawrence's design, and the security guard simply didn't have time to react.

Jack gripped tight on Jennifer's hand and moved to angle himself between Jennifer and Lawrence. Every word that Jennifer used to describe the attack came flooding back in an instant—the blood on the wedding dress, the Lord's Prayer, Lawrence blackmailing her to get the Von Leuschner fortune.

Nausea crept through Jennifer's body. Anger followed closely behind. She realized though with amazement and gratitude that there was no fear. She didn't fear him anymore. He no longer was able to keep physical or mental control over her. She had broken those chains. She saw that Jack had tried to position himself between her and Lawrence and she appreciated that he wanted to shield her, but she stepped out from behind him. She didn't want to hide behind him or give Lawrence the impression that she needed to do so. Her steely, unblinking gaze was firmly measured at Lawrence. She held tight to Jack's hand though; that visible show of solidarity, _despite everything_ , meant everything to her and she knew it meant a lot to Jack and she hoped it symbolized nearly as much to Lawrence.

Jennifer knew this was going to be bad when Lawrence started off with a smug tone, "Well, if it isn't my beautiful wife. It's so wonderful seeing you even if you're holding hands with another man. I don't mind. We can share," Lawrence winked at Jack.

"I'm not your wife. You don't know how to treat a wife," Jennifer replied back.

Jack remembered that Kayla had said almost the same words to him years before. This voyage into the past was difficult and getting more difficult with each passing day. However, Jennifer was worth it. Jennifer was worth everything. He also remembered how much he trouble he had caused for Kayla when he resisted granting her the divorce. He was glad that he had ultimately relented and surprised her with a quick, no-contest divorce but it took a near tragedy for Jack to finally put all his anger against her to rest. Jack couldn't sense any anger in Lawrence though; for him, this was just about his arrogant, almost sociopathic disdain and unconcern for the feelings of others.

"Oh, but you are my wife. Properly wedded and bedded," Lawrence turned to face Jack, "I see from your reaction that Jennifer already divulged to you about our night of passion. She was quite the—what's the American word—hellcat, left scratches all over me, but those have long since healed. I hope Jack that, unlike when you heard about your wife, you didn't take that information…badly."

Jack chose to ignore that allusion to his prior history. This encounter with Lawrence was bad enough for Jennifer already. He didn't need to make it worse.

Jennifer was disgusted, "It was not passion; you forced yourself on me. You raped me."

"Oh, I think you have me mixed up with that gentleman," Lawrence pointed at Jack. "If I had truly done that, then I wouldn't expect you to be gripping his hand so tightly—he actually pled guilty to rape, isn't that right, Jasper?" Lawrence tsked at them with his tongue. "Jennifer, you really should not project your insecurities about your boyfriend on to me."

Jennifer released Jack's hand and pointed her finger in Lawrence's face, "You can deny the truth all you want, but you can't change it. You don't scare me anymore."

Jack felt her fingers slipping away from him, but didn't comment on it, just stared at his own empty hand and missing Jennifer's hand that had been there moments earlier. That tiny gesture—the withdrawal—felt momentous—felt permanent.

"Good darling, scaring you is the last thing I'd ever want to do. You know what you need to accomplish to bring about our divorce. However, if you fail and we are unable to obtain our divorce, then I would be quite satisfied with that eventuality. Nothing sounds sweeter than being joined to you forever. Like many aristocratic couples, I wouldn't expect to have a modern sort of love marriage. We would only need to come together occasionally in order to create an heir, but those occasions shall be…such bliss."

With that, both Jack and Jennifer had enough. Jack stepped forward to intervene and got between Lawrence and Jennifer. Jack stared at him; his eyes got cold, dark, and intimidating. He remembered well how he used to look at people and treat people. He could draw upon that memory and duplicate it now. Both Jennifer and Lawrence noticed that change. Jack's eyes were now vacant, now chilling.

Lawrence avoided Jack's eyes and turned his attention back to Jennifer, "Jennifer, I do hope we can come to an amicable settlement. You achieve the only thing I am asking and I will sign our divorce papers without delay. Good day."

Lawrence turned around and left, walking back the direction he came from. Jack stared after him until he was well out of sight. Only then did Jack allow his unsettling and disturbing mask to fall away. He turned to face Jennifer fully, "Are you okay?" He wanted to reach out and touch her, caress her cheek, but under the current circumstances, he didn't dare.

Jennifer nodded; grateful to see Jack go to such lengths to try to protect her from Lawrence, but to see him transform so quickly, even though it was for her benefit and only against a monster like Lawrence, was disturbing to her as well.

Their carefree afternoon was ruined of course. Jennifer just wanted to flee and get back to the TV station. She knew it wasn't fair, but she just wanted to be gone from the situation.

Their afternoon plans had gotten derailed, but Jennifer felt good about how she had spoken to Lawrence. She didn't cower; she didn't get flustered. She had stood up to him. If she could do it that one time, it gave her confidence that she could do it again and more often. Jennifer was determined to revel in that adrenalin rush and her temporary feeling of confidence. She knew it would be short-lived and the nightmares probably would reappear tonight—nevertheless, two steps forward, one step back is still moving forward.


	15. Chapter 15

Jack banged on Steve and Kayla's door and was glad that Steve answered. Seeing Jack, Steve swung wide open the door and gestured for Jack to come in.

"I've got to get Jennifer out of this marriage to Lawrence," Jack blurted out.

Steve shrugged like it was no problem. "Sure."

"I need your help. I've got an idea, but it's not exactly legal." When Jack finished that sentence, he had by that time reached the Steve's living room and saw Kayla working at the desk. Jack winced and wished he could swallow his words. He didn't want to talk about committing crimes in front of Kayla.

"Hi Kayla," Jack said with fake brightness and his face slightly flushed from embarrassment.

"Don't mind me," Kayla said, half-amused and half-concerned.

Jack tried to backpeddle, "Y'know, it's not important."

Steve was growing impatient, "Spill it. And anything that you want me to do, you can say it in front of Kayla."

Jack cringed, but ultimately relented and started speaking frankly. "Jennifer really needs to have this marriage to Lawrence ended. He's blackmailing her; he's threatening her; and I just have to stop him. Like I said, I have an idea, but it involves forgery and fraud." He looked at Steve seriously, measuring his reaction, "Can you help me?"

Without hesitation, Steve answered, "I'm in. What's the plan?"

Jack gave a sideways glance at Kayla, "You may not remember this, but I'm hoping to help you recollect your memory because you were a witness."

Steve looked puzzled, "A witness to what?"

"That I was married in October. I have to make sure that the County Clerk's records reflect that."

Steve slowly smiled as his realization of Jack's plan dawned on him. "That's right. How could I forget? I didn't even get you a wedding present."

Without a trace of irony or humor, Jack replied, "You survived October, that's all the present I would ever need. Will you help me?"

Steve nodded.

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As soon as Jack stepped through the threshold of his penthouse, he tugged off his tie, kicked off his shoes, and shed his overcoat and suitcoat. He poured a tall drink of Kentucky bourbon.

" _We can share_ ," Lawrence had said today with a wink, meaning Jennifer, during their god-awful confrontation in the park. He wanted to punch the man. For minimalizing Jennifer, for demeaning her. For always treating her as currency to be traded in deals—one Katerina was as good as another, Lawrence could exchange Jennifer's future and her divorce for the Von Leuschner fortune. _Raping_ her so she couldn't get an easy annulment from him. The man made Jack sick.

And yet, here he was alone in the penthouse. He couldn't see himself as that much better. Jennifer would be here with him at this moment, but she couldn't stomach what he had said in his confession. He couldn't blame her. Sometimes, he couldn't stomach himself—as he had been—either.

" _We can share_ ," Lawrence had said.

" _Me? I don't like sharing_ ," Jack had said. Jack had said that to Kayla after he learned the truth about her and Steve.

The same arrogant attitude had motivated both comments. He kept trying to forget who he had been, but he was starting to fear that the past would haunt him forever. Jack downed his bourbon thinking about purgatory. That concept had been drummed into him when Harper made him go to church when they lived in Washington D.C. They had to go to church for appearances sakes with all the other senators. Voters liked their politicians in churches on Sunday and so he went. In Church, Jack had learned about purgatory and penance and atonement. Jack had never learned about Grace and compassion and forgiveness there. Those were unknown concepts until this past year when he learned them from Jo, Steve, Jennifer, and Kayla. But Grace has its limits and he worried he had exhausted all of those chances with Jennifer.

He would always be here for her though. He had done his best and would continue to do so for the remainder of his life to make things right with Kayla. Now, he would do everything in his power to protect Jennifer against Lawrence, whether she wanted him in her life or not.

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A few days later, Jack and Steve were together at the penthouse, putting the finishing touches on the paperwork for their plan.

Steve interrupted his concentration, "So what happened in Europe?"

Jack paused, debating what to tell Steve about what he had learned. "I did get some information about Lawrence. I need to sit on it for a while before I know what to do with it. It's—I'm not sure how or if to use it. The less I reveal the better, I think, for the moment."

Steve stared at Jack; his brother shouldn't be holding out on him if they were a team. But then he paused before reacting. He decided to think the best of Jack instead of the worst. If Jack was keeping this to himself, then he had a good reason. "Okay," Steve replied simply, slowly.

Jack put down his pen and just stared at Steve for a long moment. Jack felt so indescribably grateful to Steve for his help. He was overwhelmed how his brother had come through for him—never gave it a second's hesitation. Jack had needed him and that was all it that was necessary for Steve to hear. Jack was desperately missing Jennifer, but he wouldn't allow that to consume him.

In a temporary stint of emotion, Jack blurted out, "I love you."

Steve paused, his pen hovering in mid-air. His eyes got wide and his eyebrows raised up.

Jack wanted to bite back those words, "I don't know why I said that. I must've drank some flavored coffee today or something similarly…girly."

A playful smile came over Steve's face. "No, don't take it back. I wuv vu too."

Jack finally smiled, "Just thanks for helping me out with this. I couldn't do it without you."

Steve kept the mood light, not revealing how much Jack's words had meant to him. "Hey, I'm more blue collar than blue blood, so I won't commit these white-collar crimes for just anybody. But you're my brother and it's for a good cause, so I'm glad to help."

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Jack stood outside Jennifer's door, nervous about asking Jennifer for this errand. He didn't want to explain why he needed her to do this and he was breaking an unspoken promise that he would wait for her to come to him. Jack didn't want to tip off Jennifer about his plan too soon. It wasn't that he didn't want to involve her, he just didn't want her to worry about anything more.

This plan of his was important though and worth bending those unspoken rules. He didn't want to venture inside the loft though. It would be too tough now with his confession so fresh on both their memories.

Tentatively, he knocked. He knew she was home. He had broken another promise too and had contacted the security agency about her current whereabouts; the meeting with Mickey and Lawrence was tomorrow and there was no time to waste.

She answered; when she slid open the door she was surprised to see him there, but she did smile. In the span of a heartbeat Jack surreptitiously glanced at her left hand; the diamond ring was still there. He smiled; not a happy one or a sarcastic one, but more friendly and ironic.

"I need a favor," Jack began.

"Sure," she answered without hesitation. "What do you need?"

"I'd like you go put on a light-colored dress, suitable for springtime even though we are still in the dead of winter. We're going to take a little field trip," Jack replied. "Umm, look festive, not professional," Jack called to her as she was going up the stairs to her bedroom to oblige to his request. The whole time she was changing, he stood outside her door, wouldn't even come into the loft as far as the kitchen.

An hour later, Jack was depositing Jennifer back at the loft; she was even more confused than when Jack had made the request. Jack had brought her to the County Courthouse of all places and showed her around, giving her a tour of the building and recounting his days as an assemblyman—'this is where I ate my lunch' and 'this is where I had my morning meetings'. At one point, they ran across a photographer who was there for the civil ceremonies and Jack inexplicably wanted a photo of them together.

Jennifer knew Jack never did anything so apparently bizarre without a good reason, but she couldn't imagine what had gotten into his head. Throughout the tour, he was the perfect gentleman; he never imposed or asked her anything about their relationship.

When he dropped her back off at the loft, he merely thanked her for a pleasant afternoon and was quickly gone, leaving Jennifer shaking her head.

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The next day, Jack appeared at WATB about a half-hour before she was supposed to go to Mickey's office. She and Lawrence hadn't come to any agreement and Frankie definitely hadn't given the Von Leuschner fortune to Lawrence. However, Mickey was hoping to move things along through negotiation and Jennifer still didn't feel comfortable explaining why an annulment could be so potentially difficult.

"Jack, I really appreciate that you want to go with me to Mickey's office for these divorce negotiations with Lawrence, but I can handle it. I need to be able to confront him and deal with him on my own. I can't let him get to me anymore."

"Jennifer, I appreciate you saying that, but there are some things that I need to say to Lawrence and to make sure that he is aware of." Jack hoped she'd feel the urgency in his voice and acquiesce. "I need to go. Okay?"

Jennifer nodded; he had asked her for so little and had given her so much. If it was that important to him, then she couldn't deny him.

They arrived to Mickey's office ten minutes early and Jack was staying tight-lipped about his briefcase. Jennifer captured Mickey in a tight hug, "Thank you so much Uncle Mickey for helping me with this. I know this can't be easy with trying to learn about the obscure laws of Lawrence's country." Mickey merely nodded at Jack; there was too much history with Kayla's rape trial and the disastrous relationship with Melissa for him to ever warm fully to Jack. Perhaps if he did marry Jennifer and make her happy for years, then he could give more than stilted politeness.

"Mickey," Jack started, feeling the awkwardness as much as Jennifer's uncle, "there are some things that need to be discussed when Lawrence arrives. Private matters between Lawrence, Jennifer, and me. Would you mind giving us twenty minutes or so when he arrives?"

Mickey looked at Jennifer, confused. He wouldn't do anything for Jack without Jennifer's approval. Jennifer looked at Jack equally surprised. She wasn't expecting this. "What about, Jack?" she asked, filled with trepidation.

"Trust me?" Jack asked.

"Of course, but…"

Mickey interceded, "Jack, this annulment is an extremely delicate and complicated matter considering the laws of Lawrence's country. Don't make this more difficult. Jennifer has put her trust in me to resolve this."

Jennifer put her hand on Mickey's arm, "It's okay. I know Jack wants this marriage ended as much as I do."

Mickey conceded and put up his hands, "If you wish. I'll let you have your privacy." Mickey looked back at Jennifer once more, his concern and wariness obvious, but exited from the room.

Jennifer was looking at Jack, studying him and trying to read his intentions, "What are you planning?" Jack merely replied with a placid smile.

Lawrence sauntered in to Mickey's office, noticeably feeling confident that he could extort a very favorable divorce agreement. His face betrayed a look of confusion for a moment when he walked into the office and saw the addition of Jack and the lack of Jennifer's uncle and lawyer. He quickly recovered though and his smug look returned.

"Mr. Deveraux, unless you're masquerading today as a lawyer, I hardly think your presence will be beneficial to Mrs. Alamain's concerns. In fact your presence will work to my benefit so I will not object, but I do have such sympathy for my lovely wife and don't wish to see her disappointed."

Jack maintained his placid smile. He was going to enjoy this meeting. It wasn't going to bring about Lawrence's destruction like he wanted, but he would win this battle and untether Jennifer from Lawrence's last remnants of his control over her.

"I believe you are mistaken for several reasons," Jack began. "Some of which I will enumerate here. Miss Horton was not married as herself with her given name, but as Katerina Von Leuschner. She freely testifies that she _endured_ the farce of the ceremony only because she was threatened, blackmailed, and kidnapped."

Lawrence rolled his eyes, "Evidently you need your Uncle Mickey to explain the laws of my country. The marriage was quite legal, I assure you. You are trying my patience and like I said at the outset, not helping Mrs. Alamain whatsoever."

Jennifer looked back and forth between Lawrence and Jack. She wasn't sure what Jack had planned, but the politeness and Ivy League elocution and manners that were covering up Lawrence's vile actions and Jack's seething anger were quite unsettling.

"You are incorrect on one very important point, Lawrence," Jack was obviously relishing this moment, "You were never married to Jennifer."

"Really? I think I know the laws of my country far better than you. This really is getting pathetic, Jasper."

"You were never married to Jennifer because at the time that she was your prisoner, she was already _legally_ married to me."

Jennifer turned round and stared at Jack-unsure that whatever scam he was trying to run here was going to work. Lawrence was surprised by Jack's statement and carefully monitored Jennifer's response.

"Really? Jennifer was married to you?" Lawrence turned to Jennifer, "Is that right Jennifer?"

Her mind was swimming; she trusted Jack and hoped he had more than just a con. She weakly nodded. She'd follow Jack anywhere-even into the abyss of some cockamamie story.

Lawrence was acting amused, "Really? When?"

Jack stopped smiling. He hated Lawrence and wanted to annihilate him; he was going to enjoy this, but it wasn't a game. He opened up the briefcase he had brought to the meeting, "Here is our marriage certificate. You'll notice it was dated October 8, 1990 here in Salem County between Jack Harcourt Deveraux and Jennifer Rose Horton-Jennifer's real name and the name on her birth certificate. This was a full month before your supposed sham wedding at your villa."

Lawrence was not amused anymore. "A piece of paper means nothing."

"It's entirely legal I assure you. Here is an apostille certifying the executed marriage license. Our wedding ceremony was presided over by Judge Ingalls and witnessed by my brother, Steve Johnson and my editor, Vern Scofield. All their signatures are there and they will testify that they witnessed our ceremony. Here is a copy of our wedding photo."

Jack held up a photograph of Jack with Jennifer in the white dress she wore yesterday at Jack's request when they had inexplicably gone to the County Court House. Jennifer started to realize the scope of what Jack had arranged. If he could establish that they were already married in November then Lawrence would be completely powerless and her marriage to him would be declared invalid. Neither an annulment nor a divorce would be necessary. She tried to hide a smile; Jack had gone to incredible lengths to remove her from this marriage and from any further control by Lawrence.

"That is all smoke and mirrors," Lawrence asserted. "You cannot do an end run around Jennifer's and my marriage. I don't care if you get your fellow stooges, Steve and Vern to perjure themselves for you."

Jack wasn't done yet. "It's perfectly legal, I assure you. Our marriage has been on file in the Salem County Courthouse for months. You can even check the security video footage from that day; you'll see that Jennifer and I came to the Courthouse, went to Judge Ingalls's office, and exchanged our vows. Jennifer was married to me so she couldn't possibly have been legally married to you."

"I have to talk to Judge Ingalls."

Jack shook his head, "Judge Ingalls had a heart attack right before Christmas. He's passed away. You can check his signature and schedule though. Everything will hold up, I assure you."

Lawrence was getting irate; he was realizing that on this point, he just might have been checkmated. He wasn't ready to concede defeat though. "I have very powerful lawyers and will take this to court. You won't win."

"Really? Who do you think a judge will side with? A marriage between Jennifer, with her legal name, on American soil, entered into willingly, and in October. Or your sham wedding in November in which she didn't use her real name-a coerced and forced wedding in a foreign country and Jennifer was only there because you had kidnapped her. Who do you think an American judge will decide that Jennifer is married to?"

That question hung in the air for several moments before Jack continued. "She was married to me so she certainly doesn't need to obtain a divorce or annulment settlement from you because there was never any marriage-legal or otherwise. You trying to cling to this non-existent, invalid marriage, only to try to use it as leverage to further blackmail her in another feeble attempt to get the Von Leuschner fortune, only makes you appear more pathetic and diabolical. No judge will ever side with you. Our marriage is iron-clad. Your claims are so ridiculous in comparison that Jennifer can't even get busted for bigamy."

Jennifer spoke up, "And you really must stop calling me Mrs. Alamain; it is Mrs. Deveraux to you and to everyone else."

Jack smiled, "Uncle Mickey will be back soon and if you continue with this harassment of _my wife_ , then we will start pressing charges and filing lawsuits. Be gone from our sight."

Lawrence knew he was beaten-for the moment, "This isn't over yet."

Jack held Lawrence's icy stare, "Damn right it's not over. Here's a copy of our wedding certificate. You can have it as a souvenir." He knew Lawrence would be looking for any possible loophole, but Jack felt safe. Both he and Steve had been thorough.

Lawrence snatched the paper and tromped out of the office.

After the door slammed shut, Jennifer threw her arms around Jack. "I can't believe you did that! That was amazing!"

Jack held her tight; he had controlled his temper during the tense standoff with Lawrence. He had wanted that man's neck under his heel.

Jennifer felt incredible in his arms. He hadn't held her like this since the day of the joint counseling session. He wasn't fooling himself though; he knew it was more the adrenalin and relief that fueled her into his arms instead of a sudden, magical resolution of all their problems.

Still tight within his arms, Jennifer spoke into his chest, "So are we married?"

Jack took half a step back, "No. I had us legally divorced on December 6th, the day before I proposed the first time. It wouldn't make much sense to propose to get married if we were already married. Besides, if we're ever going to be married for real, then I want you to be there and I really want to hear you say your vows."

Jennifer cupped his cheeks in her hands. She wanted to confirm that they would have their happy life together. God knew she wanted that, but still something was holding her back.

Jack could see her hesitating to commit to their engagement and eventual marriage. She was still wearing her diamond ring and he wouldn't pressure her about her feelings regarding their future. He had promised to wait. He had promised to let her choose. That promise was getting more difficult though with each passing day though. It seemed that with everyday that passed, their past and their future were slipping further away into obscurity.

Steve had been an invaluable help to Jack, coordinating all the logistics to retrofit his marriage license and get it part of the public record as though it had been there and that he and Jennifer had been legally married since October. To make the ruse foolproof, Steve had advised Jack that he would need tangible evidence. The wedding photo and surveillance video at the county courthouse that were supposedly collected on the wedding day would help make the marriage legally irrefutable.

Jack and Steve had debated about having the wedding occur in Salem or New York City. New York City would have made more sense with the timeline and help explain why there were so few witnesses, but the logistics of trying to sneak all the necessary legal paperwork into a New York courthouse just seemed beyond all possibility so they settled on Salem. The official version would be that Jennifer and Jack had a quickie wedding in October (and all official records would reflect that) and then a quickie divorce in December (right before he proposed marriage). The reasons for a quick marriage and quick divorce were irrelevant; the only thing that mattered would be that the marriage would hold up in a court of law.

Despite her hesitation to come back into his life, Jack was glad he could at least offer Jennifer some consolation though, "Your marriage to Lawrence should no longer be an issue. He can't try to hold your marriage over your head to blackmail you or those who care about you anymore."


	16. Chapter 16

Jennifer was still reveling from the scene with Jack and Lawrence in Uncle Mickey's office. Jack had saved her so many times; in almost every way that a person could save someone else. Jack had saved her from making a big mistake by marrying Emilio, he had saved her life on the ship, on the island, at Lawrence's villa, he had stood by her during some of the darkest day—before he knew about the rape and after he knew about the rape. Just today, he had freed her from this marriage to Lawrence by creating a legal pre-existing marriage between himself and her.

She knew what his response would be if she told him how many ways he had saved her—he would brush it off and say 'no, that was what she had done for him.'

Now more than ever, she felt awful for the distance she had created and needed to just deal with the major lynch pin of her issues, without flinching, without balking. She needed to steel herself for one of the most difficult conversations of her life

Jennifer had already made plans to meet with Kayla and help her with Stephanie's birthday party. She kept those plans and sincerely hoped that Kayla wouldn't mind an additional topic on the agenda. She arrived at Kayla's and Steve's house and exchanged a quick hug with Kayla in the foyer before Kayla suggested they go on through to the dining room where she had all the plans and supplies laid out on the table.

They went on with the birthday party planning for a while but Kayla could tell that Jennifer looked preoccupied. She broached the topic that she knew about, "Steve told me that it looks like he and Jack were able to clear you from the marriage with Lawrence. That must be such a relief."

Jennifer smiled thinking back to Jack's brilliant performance with Lawrence, glad to know he had done it in partnership with his brother. Jack had forged her signature and had them legally married…and divorced without her knowledge. And it was probably the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. In that category of most romantic gestures, Jack would also get second, third, fourth, fifth, and probably sixth place too. She didn't need chocolates for Valentine's Day, teddy bears for her birthday, or jewelry for an anniversary present, because he gave her his heart and his soul everyday.

"Yes, it was amazing for both of them. I owe Jack…and Steve too, of course such a great deal." Jennifer's face clouded over then. "But, instead of the present, I would like to possibly delve into the past with you…if you don't object."

Kayla froze in place for a long moment, regarding Jennifer, trying to read her expression. "The part of my past that you probably want to discuss was a long time ago for me. I think I have enough time and distance that I can discuss it objectively and fairly with you. So if you want, you can talk to me about anything. Please don't feel shy. I haven't broached anything with you because I wasn't sure that anything _I_ could say would be helpful _to you_."

"I'd like to talk about Jack if that's okay. I know he hurt you. I'm realizing now how much he hurt you. I'm sorry for that, I really am.

Kayla shook her head, "Please don't apologize."

Jennifer rushed on, "But I love him. For me, he's the most amazing man I've ever known, but it's so difficult to reconcile that with how you know him—as something almost completely opposite."

Jennifer looked down, "Jack told me. He told me what he did." She felt guilty for imposing on that dark chapter in Jack's and Kayla's life. She regretted it bitterly, but still didn't know how to process the images in her head. Ever since that day she had pulled away from Jack. She was not sleeping over anymore at his place, but she still wore his ring. Except for the marriage matter, Jack had not initiated any contact with her since he had confessed and since she had decided to resume sleeping at the loft. She kept hearing Jack's description over and over and could not reconcile that man with the one that she loved. She didn't want to break with him, but she did need some breathing room.

Kayla looked surprised and hurt.

Jennifer went on quickly, "He didn't want to, but I asked him and…and…he'll do anything for me. I wish to God now that I'd never asked. I regret it because now I can't get it out of my head." Kayla still looked stunned and wounded. "He didn't say anything about you. He just said what he did and the reasons—not the excuses—for what he did."

Kayla rose up and paced the length of the dining room for a minute. She stopped and looked at Jennifer, "What did he say?"

"Jack gave me the brutal, unvarnished truth. He didn't try to equivocate on anything."

Kayla was curious to know what Jack had said. She knew she could never ask him directly. However, asking Jennifer to repeat it would be almost as bad. From what Jennifer said, he'd obviously been tough and honest in his retelling.

Kayla didn't say more so Jennifer went on, "I can't talk about this in my group sessions. I can't even imagine the reactions of the other women if they knew the truth; that I was in love with a man who once did this. They would never understand. I also want to press charges against Lawrence. I want him to go to prison."

Kayla nodded, finally understanding why Jennifer had revealed this to her. Subconsciously, Jennifer needed Kayla's permission and approval. She couldn't discuss her singular situation in group, but she needed to talk with someone that she hoped wouldn't judge.

Kayla sat down in the adjacent dining room chair. "Jennifer, look, I'm going to speak frankly with you now since you opened the door here. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that Jack is a great, wonderful guy and you're lucky to have him. I just can't say that. There are other people like Jo or Alice Horton who can say that and be completely honest and sincere. However, I don't resent that Jack has moved on with his life and found happiness with you."

Kayla stopped, repositioned her dining room chair so that she would be looking at Jennifer straight on. They were close; their knees not quite touching. "You are not betraying me, you are not betraying the other women in your group, and you most certainly _are not betraying yourself_."

Jennifer tried to fully explain what had been bothering her. "In your mind, is it okay for me to feel like I do about Jack? I do love him, but I have had doubts about whether I should. I just have all those images in my head from what he told me that he did…to you."

"Jennifer, I understand why you think you need to make things right with me before moving forward, but it really isn't necessary. There is nothing wrong with loving Jack. There is nothing wrong with the way you love Jack," Kayla paused, sensing another issue that might now be troubling her, "Also, if you are concerned that the old Jack may return someday, then I think you have nothing to worry about. I am confident that the old Jack, the nasty Jack, the one we loathed and hated is gone forever. Otherwise, I _would not_ have allowed him in this house; I _would not_ have allowed him in Stephanie's life. However, I probably _would_ have butted into your life a long time ago to give you my opinion about Jack."

Kayla paused and looked around, her emotions were getting too much drawn back to the past and she needed to keep herself grounded in this moment and within her current reality. She looked around the dining room at the long line of photo frames that she had Stephanie scribble on to give as presents to all the people coming to the birthday party. Her life with Steve and Stephanie was so _good_ that she wanted only to help Jennifer get from her current hell into the future that she wanted. "You don't need my permission here. It's okay to love him, it's okay to give yourself to him; it's okay to want to make a future with him. I don't begrudge Jack what he's built with you. Listen to me well; take it from one who knows. I had a front row seat to witness nasty Jack. I saw him at his absolute worst. And know this as well as I do. Jack now is _nothing, absolutely nothing_ like Jack then. You've got to trust me on that one."

Jennifer nodded; Kayla was right. Jennifer really needed to hear Kayla validate her choices. She had needed to hear Kayla's voice; she couldn't allow that to be lost.

Jennifer still hadn't voiced all her concerns yet, "I know that. I really truly do. But yet I'm still stuck. Everything with Lawrence has made me re-evaluate us. And that maybe love can't conquer all."

"Don't give Lawrence the ability to make you re-evaluate everything you have—he's an evil, selfish, small-minded bastard and he shouldn't influence anything of your decisions."

Kayla continued on, "And it's okay to want to press charges. Although a trial will not be easy, I can guarantee you that. I'll be here for you in any capacity that you want. And Jack will just have to deal with any discomfort that he feels."

Kayla paused, debating about her next sentence. "And it's okay to want to send Lawrence to prison. I know that Jack never spent even a single night in jail for what he did to me. Harper got him out an hour after he was arrested and I agreed to a plea deal that included a suspended prison sentence. That was my choice. I'm okay that Jack never went to prison because he has shown plenty of remorse and penance since then. I don't think the same can ever be said about Lawrence. In Lawrence's case, send the bastard to prison if you can."

Kayla paused to get a read on Jennifer who was sitting very still, tensed, obviously dreading that such things needed to be said at all. Kayla reached over and put her hand on Jennifer's knee, hoping to bring her comfort and hoping Jennifer would know that Kayla was okay with having this discussion. Kayla switched gears; she had another bit of experience that might help Jennifer also. "Y'know Steve has done things in his past that were…horrible and that he regrets too. I'm not going to sit here and compare the two brothers, but Steve had done things that we both needed to accept, put into the past, and move on. And we did it. And I've never regretted for a single second letting that old Steve remain dead and gone forever."

"Kayla, I'd like to be honest about something." Kayla nodded her willingness so Jennifer continued. "When I started falling for Jack, I thought a lot about you—about how it had been for you. I knew he was different…than he had been, but I still thought a lot about it. It's not something that's easy to forget once someone knows. I actually told that to him once long before there was even the faintest whisper of us going out."

Jennifer rushed on; she had to get this spoken regardless of how difficult it was, "I don't want you to think that I…discounted…or…disregarded…what you went through before I gave myself…to him. I didn't…I could never…dismiss it as nothing. I hope you never thought..." Jennifer dropped her head down into her hand, "God this is hard."

Kayla reached out and put her hand on Jennifer's, "I know were in…unique circumstances. This situation probably will never be duplicated by anyone that we'll ever know. It's tough to find our way through it. It's been tough for me too…because of Steve. But I'm okay with it. But Jennifer, Jennifer, of course I never thought that you discounted me." Kayla dropped her voice, speaking softly, "I know that Jack feels like he still owes me, but you certainly don't. I'm glad he makes you happy. I'm glad we'll be sisters."

Jennifer felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of her, "I really appreciate you saying that. Carly is my best friend from school and I learned she had a relationship with Lawrence. If she ever goes back to him…knowing what he did to me…I'm not sure if I could still be her friend."

Kayla's heart went out to Jennifer; she understood that Jennifer felt caught and conflicted. Jennifer wanted to be with Jack; Jennifer loved Jack. That was obvious. But she kept drawing all these comparisons with how things had been for Kayla and how she would like her friend Carly to be.

Kayla paused and nervously tapped her fingers to her lips. Jennifer saw her hands shaking and grew concerned. Jennifer spoke up, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have started all this."

Kayla brought her nervousness back under control. "No. I think it's okay. I can talk about this with you. I hadn't thought about…the past…for such a long time. I moved on with my life. Got married, had different crises, had a daughter and now she is my primary concern. But now with everything that you and Jack are dealing with, it just has kind of come back to me as well. …I want to ask you…what he said….I could never ask him for any type of extended explanation and…well, could you repeat it?"

Now Jennifer really regretted starting down this path at all. She shut her eyes tight. Jennifer realized that Kayla must've had the same questions about Jack that she had about Lawrence. Those torturous questions had pushed Jennifer to ask Jack about his past and had set them out on this sad path that they now found themselves.

Jennifer rushed to say what she considered most important, "He didn't talk about you. He didn't say anything about you that he thought would betray your privacy." Kayla nodded; Jennifer had already said that.

Jennifer started slowly and then decided to just trudge forward. She knew that both she and Kayla wanted this over soon. This was an absolutely peculiar and bizarre situation they found themselves in. _Who else would ever be asked to recount such a confession to the person he had wronged?_ "He didn't want to hurt you; he did want to hurt Steve though. I think that's part of the reason why Jack is so devoted to him now…to make up for the past…to show all the love he can now to equal out the hate from back then. He said he knew it was the last night of your marriage and it would likely all be over, one way or the other, in the morning. And he wanted to make this desperate play. If he could be more like the person…you wanted…then you might change your mind."

Jennifer paused, "That's how it started, he said…There was a moment…before he had…reached the point of no return, when he realized what he was doing. When there were no illusions. He should have stopped and knew in that moment that he needed to stop…but didn't. In that moment, he was weak and all he cared about was creating the memory, regardless of anything or anyone else."

Jennifer stopped to look out the window. Jennifer had always felt this incredible connection with Jack where she was able to feel things through his eyes and understand them through his mind. From that connection, she was feeling Jack's emotions. That shocking sensation—to see that night through his eyes—was one of the most eerie and scary experiences of their relationship. Their connection was strong, she knew, but until this moment when she was retelling Jack's story, did she realize just how deep and complete it was.

"That's all Jack said," Jennifer said finally.

Kayla sat still for a long time and Jennifer stayed silent and let her take the time she needed to absorb everything that had been said. Her mind was sent back reeling to that night. His insistent, desperate assertions and then the moment that Jennifer described—the moment that Jack could have stopped. She remembered that moment—Jack had taken his hand off her shoulder and put it on her chin to turn her face toward him and make her look at him. He had looked into her eyes and she saw in his face that he finally recognized the truth. With that realization, he had transformed. His eyes that had been insistent and desperate, became hard and determined and he had sealed both of their fates.

Those memories were difficult and rancid, but Kayla didn't want to wallow in those emotions. Instead, Kayla saw an opportunity to be kind, to be loving, to show grace and she took it. "So Jack didn't tell you about what happened afterwards?"

Jennifer shook her head, "He said that would be saying too much about you and so he said nothing."

There were a lot of things Jack said in the aftermath that Kayla could have recounted to Jennifer and all of them would have been honest and true. Kayla could have said that Jack denied that it was actually rape. Kayla could have said that Jack wanted to blame her because of all the lies she told that led up to it, Kayla could have said that Jack had wanted to prove he wasn't 'half a man' and showed that he could 'do alright.' Kayla could have recounted how Jack ordered her to not leave the loft that night or she'd regret it.

But Kayla said none of those things to Jennifer. Kayla had no desire to torpedo Jack's life and certainly not Jennifer's. So instead, Kayla did say, "Jack apologized. He said 'I'm sorry' to me that night."

Jennifer looked up and looked into Kayla's eyes and saw them full of compassion. That simple admission broke down the wall that Jennifer had built up around her so that she could have this conversation somewhat coherently. Her eyes filled with tears. Despite everything he did that night, those two little words had saved Jack from damnation.

Kayla reached up and wiped away some of the tears from Jennifer's cheeks with her fingertips. She didn't tell the full truth of the aftermath to Jennifer, but she had said what was necessary. She had said what Jennifer needed to hear. And she knew that Jennifer was sated. It would allow her conscience to let go of her reservations.

Jennifer looked up so she could see Kayla better; Kayla's hands were still on Jennifer's cheeks, checking the tears. "I'm sorry too," Jennifer managed to say in a weak voice.

Kayla leaned forward and put her arms around Jennifer in a long, long hug. "Ssshhh. You're going to be okay. I promise you."

Still in the hug, Jennifer nodded. "I remember that day you talked to me at the hospital; when you showed me the pictures of Stephanie. You wanted me to know that you're okay _now_."

Kayla pulled back from the hug so she could look in Jennifer's face. With a compassionate smile, she reached up with her index finger and started disentangling their hair. "Yes. I'm great, truly. And you will be too."

"Kayla, I don't know how to thank you…for letting me impose…for speaking of that dark time."

Kayla lifted up Jennifer's chin, "We're going to be sisters…very soon. Aren't we?"

Jennifer knew what Kayla was asking. _Was Jennifer able to put Jack's past to rest and move forward with him—without hesitation, without concerns or apprehension?_

Slowly but assuredly, Jennifer nodded.

Jennifer felt love—only love for Jack—no guilt, no qualifications. And in a startling moment of clarity, she felt hope.

She glanced at her engagement ring. Most of the time, at most directions, the diamond appeared lifeless—a simple white rock. However, sometimes she had found a sweet angle and saw the stone glow with brightness and flashes of color. A simple shift in viewpoint could make her see the fire and sparkle inside the diamond. The gemstone was the same as it had always been, but looked quite different. And like her diamond, her relationship with Jack was also beautiful, fiery, and alive. It's incredible to find the beauty that can be revealed when one simply chooses an alternate perspective.


	17. Chapter 17

Jack slunk down in the comfy chair in the living room and did something he rarely ever did—turned on the television and started flipping through the forty-five channels offered by his cable company. He settled on the 1939 version of _Wuthering Heights_ by Emily Bronte, with Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier. He had seen Olivier perform Shakespeare in London a few years back and figured this movie would be the best option. He barely remembered reading the book in prep school, but watching the movie brought enough back. Also, he recalled Roman and Isabella were dressed as Heathcliff and Cathy by Ernesto Toscano on the Loretta. In the book, Cathy and Heathcliff loved each other, beyond all others and beyond all time. But Heathcliff was too wild and dangerous and Cathy thought it best to leave him. She left him and it destroyed both of them. It drove him to hatred and darkness and Heathcliff spent the second half of the book mourning the loss of her as he slowly descended into madness.

Was this his future now that Jennifer had left him? Ever since he learned the full scope of Lawrence's crimes, he started to doubt that his reformation was permanent. He could feel all those dark instincts beckoning him back with tempting tendrils. He wanted revenge…like Heathcliff…like he used to.

He looked down at his hands. They were large hands—even compared to most other men. But he had used these hands for such cruel purposes—these hands had held Kayla down, had dialed up Victor to order that Steve get beaten up, to hold Kayla as a shield when Steve confronted him on the rooftop. Thinking back at all the deeds he'd done with these hands, he hated them and he hated himself. Why did he think Jennifer would ever want him to touch her again _with these hands_?

Jennifer slid her car into an empty parking space and slid the gear into park. For some reason, her mind inexplicably remembered one of her favorite books growing up, _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Bronte. In the book, Jane realized that although she loved Mr. Rochester, due to insuperable circumstances she could not be with him. Somehow she found the strength to leave him. But having left him, her soul would not allow her to forget him. All the rest of the world seemed cold and passionless in comparison. Jane found even greater reserves of strength and went back. She simply could not allow for him to go way in this world and she another. The whole trip back to Thornfield Hall, Jane worried she had waited too long. Jane knew that some disaster had fallen upon the man she dearly loved.

Growing up, Jennifer always wondered what she would do if she had been in Jane's shoes. Would she choose love and society's dishonor or would she have, like Jane, set herself lost and alone out in the world but maintained her conscience and self-respect?

Fortunately, Jennifer didn't have to make such a galling decision. Her conscience was satisfied now after speaking with Kayla. _Despite everything_ , she was prepared once more to love Jack freely and openly.

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Jennifer rang the doorbell of Jack's penthouse and then adjusted the shoulder strap of the heavy bag she was carrying. She knew it was late, but not too late that Jack had already gone to bed.

She rang again. "Who is it?" Jack sounded sharp and tense.

After all the heartache, Jennifer just wanted to play a little. Having made the decision to return, her heart felt lighter and freer. She called back in a deep voice. "Delivery!"

Jack wasn't budging and getting annoyed, "It's late. Delivery of what?"

Jennifer replied once more in a deep voice, "Silk pajamas."

That got his attention. He flipped off the TV and rose from his chair. He unlocked the door and opened up saying simultaneous, "Silk pajamas?" He then realized it was her, but decided to go for a bad joke instead of contemplating what her presence meant. "Oh good, I thought some guy had a crush on me."

"I was hoping to stay over tonight…if I may? Like we were?"

Jack was stunned. His world couldn't flip that easily from darkness to light, from despair to hope, just with the ring of a doorbell. But it was Jennifer. She was here. Jennifer had pulled back and had not wanted to sleep over since the day of the counseling session. He wanted to know what this all meant. Of course, he could deny her nothing. Just moments before, he was feeling forlorn and lost in shadows. Darkness was creeping up on him and then _almost like she_ _knew_ that this was a moment of his greatest need, she appeared at his threshold like a golden ray of sunshine, apparently ready to restore their relationship.

Jennifer's nerves were electric. She was nervous, but not because of Jack. She wanted to apologize for staying away, but didn't really feel prepared to explain why at the moment. She hoped he would let it be for now. "Can I come in?" she asked shyly.

Jack's response was immediate; he didn't want to reveal all his doubts and self-loathing to her. "Of course," he stepped aside and allowed her in.

"I brought a bag. I was hoping to keep a few things here." She wasn't trying to invade his privacy. Just to let him know that she was wanted something permanent and wasn't planning to back away once more.

Jack glanced at the bag, feeling overwhelmed with this change in fortune. Whatever she wanted, how often she wanted it, then he would oblige.

"It's getting a little late though. Would you like to stay up and talk some or head straight to bed?"

"Let's go to sleep?" Jennifer made it a question. Wanting to know if that was okay with him.

"Okay," Jack took the overnight bag from off her shoulder and gestured for her to go through.

Ten minutes later, Jack was holding her in bed. For both, it felt so wonderful, like returning home after a long trip away. Jennifer drifted easily off to sleep. Jack had several lingering questions about why she stayed away and why she came back and it took him longer to finally drift off.

Before drifting off to sleep, Jack remembered that Steve had called them soulmates and was starting to truly believe that his brother was right. For once, he was glad that his cynical pessimistic self was being proved wrong.

Jennifer never had another nightmare about Lawrence.

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Jack slowly roused from sleep with a curious sensation. As he rose to consciousness, he realized that Jennifer was with him, sleeping beside him—her side wasn't vacant anymore. Holding her all night, knowing she was near to him in mind and in body felt unimaginably amazing. It managed to quell all fears and all doubts. Some of her lustrous hair was feathered across his face, slightly tickling him. He reached up to brush it aside and the movement woke her. She turned around to face him.

"Good morning," she said with sleepy but smiling eyes.

"Good morning," he answered back. "Your hair," he explained.

She reached up and touched his cheek, "Yes, I'm here."

That made him laugh, "No, I meant 'your hair'; it fell onto my face and some got into my mouth." He glanced down at her silk pajamas. "I'm definitely glad you are here, though." He took the liberty to lean over and kiss her on her cheek and was emboldened when she didn't pull back so he kissed her cheek a second time, further back towards her ear.

"Me too," was Jennifer's reply, she was running her hand across his jaw. She loved the feel of his stubble when she caressed his chin or he kissed her. It always reminded her of their island kisses. "I have an early morning at the station," she said indicating that she would have to leave the bed fairly soon. "However, that means I don't have a late night. See you back here later?"

Jack nodded, "Of course."

Before Jennifer left the bed, she kissed him back on his cheek.

Jack woke up again and got out of bed about a half hour later. He dragged himself into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror over the sink. He was surprised at his reflection. He caught himself smiling. He was actually smiling and feeling something very much akin to happiness.

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That evening, Jennifer arrived at Jack's soon after she got off work. She still had a key and let herself in to start preparing dinner. She still felt at peace with her decision to well, not recommit exactly, but to not let the past get in the way of the future.

Jack arrived home, smelled dinner cooking and couldn't resist calling out, "Hi, honey, I'm home!"

Jennifer quickly put on an apron and grabbed a pinch of flour from the canister in the cupboard and smeared it on the apron. She wanted to create the homey domesticity she had grown to love in her grandparent's house. She came out from the kitchen, with a grin and feeling mischievous.

Jack felt undone. Jennifer always and unknowingly managed a seductive blend of wicked and innocent, temptress and angel. He pushed down those thoughts. Tonight wasn't about being fun and flirty. It was about starting to reconnect from the chasm created by his confession.

"I could use your help in the kitchen. Care to join me?" Jennifer asked.

"Yes." Jack's reply sounded far more throaty than he intended.

After dinner, Jack asked, "Would you like to do something together or do you need to take care of some work?"

Jennifer shook her head. "Actually, I have a different idea. I really enjoyed it when you gave me a massage that one night."

This sounded much better than work to Jack. "Sure, would you like another one?"

Jennifer was a little nervous, "Actually, I'd like to give you one. Would that be okay?"

"Sure." That sounded even better. "Just direct me. I'm yours to command."

"Okay. Take off your shirt." Jennifer hesitated, "And your pants."

That really surprised Jack. "Pants too?"

Jennifer nodded. "Just have your boxers and lie down on the couch."

Jack slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. He was okay with the couch here. They were in the penthouse—not the loft. His gaze never left Jennifer as he was unbuttoning his shirt. He remembered when they were on the Loretta and had broken through a lot of the emotional walls that Jack had built up. Then, Jennifer was unbuttoning his shirt for him and silencing any of his attempts to object with 'I love you.' That had worked. This moment wasn't sexual, but it was electric. It was very sensually charged. They wouldn't make love again for some time to come; Jack knew that and was fine with that, but he was starting to believe it would happen again someday.

Jennifer still hadn't made any explanations. They both were enjoying this relaxed easiness between them and Jack wasn't going to ruin it by pushing for answers. He knew they would come when Jennifer was ready.

Jack finished unbuttoning his shirt and it stayed on and open. Jennifer silently prodded him on. He debated, despite her request, about taking off his pants. It just carried with it too many implied messages.

"Please. We can do this," Jennifer said.

Jack kicked off his shoes and despite her encouragement, still hesitated at his belt. It just seemed so…so predatory.

"You have nothing to prove here with me," Jack said, anticipating her unspoken motive.

"I know," she replied simply, anxious to begin.

Finally, he compromised and turned his back, undid his pants, reached down to pull off his socks and pant legs in one motion. When down to his boxers, he then lied down on his stomach on the couch.

"Do you want a pillow or prefer to lie flat?" Jennifer asked, wanting to make him as comfortable as possible.

"I'm fine like this." His right cheek rested on the sofa cushion and could easily see her as she stood over him. Jack was tense and knew he was going to stay tense the whole time. This massage wasn't about him, about making him relax. Jennifer needed this. He knew she wanted to be able to touch him to ease her way back into her own life and her own sexuality. This demonstration was also to assure both of them, that she still wanted him and could provide for him as an equal partner despite his confession.

Jennifer took a deep breath. She hadn't been anywhere close to Jack like this since they had made love in October at the embassy in New York City. She knew now that she hadn't fooled Lawrence about anything and wondered if he knew that Jack had been with her in that embassy, on Lawrence's turf. That man probably took it as an insult, a slap in his face that needed to be punished.

Jennifer felt some trepidation as her fingers hovered over Jack's strong back. Jack had always been strong and athletic, but very discriminating about his physical pursuits—usually swimming in an indoor pool in the winter or the lake in the summer and horseback riding whenever he could get to the stables. But those were individual sports and reflective of his personality more than competitive team sports like basketball games that had been Emilio's and Frankie's preferences.

She wanted to get reacquainted with Jack. She wanted to gradually resume their physical life so that eventually making love wouldn't seem quite so intimidating, but instead natural. Also, with the evenings that they had shared a bed and sleeping in each others arms, she had realized how important touching, showing simple affection, and cuddling were just as important for a couple as making love. Especially now that she wasn't ready for that—it didn't mean that all physical contact was impossible. And she trusted Jack; she knew he would never get carried away with passion.

During their courtship, they had such a long, achingly long, slow dance as they circled round each other, but never able to commit to being a couple. They didn't really feel comfortable kissing until they were on the Loretta and then escalated to making love soon after on the island. When they returned home, they were mourning Hope and then Jack had accidentally killed Harper while defending Steve and Kayla. They broke up for quite a while and as soon as they got back together, Steve was injured in the boat explosion and Lawrence had kidnapped her. Now they were taking a step back and rediscovering each other in their long slow dance of courtship as they slowly transitioned back to being a couple once more.

She didn't want Jack to feel her hands trembling so she put her palms flat onto his back. She liked feeling his bare skin underneath her fingertips. As she tested her limits, her trepidation eased away, she was able to relax, and she could feel Jack be slightly less tense beneath her.

Jack felt her warm palms, her feather-light fingertips tracing circles and creating patterns along his back. It sent electric pinpricks coursing through him as he experienced more enjoyment than he thought he had a right to. He was laying there, feeling Jennifer work through her fears about Lawrence and try to move beyond their distance about his past.

With their separation, Jack noticed how he had felt in this penthouse by remembering her here and then feeling overwhelmed by her absence. He realized once more the difference that Jennifer made in his life. Feeling her absence acutely when _she_ left _him_ , he wondered how he could have ever pushed her away. How could he have cheated them out of all those precious moments in the past by denying how he felt last spring or when he pushed her away after Harper's death or after she slapped him. He also started feeling guilt. He didn't deserve her loving touch. He didn't deserve her presence or her devotion. He would accept it though, because he would not ever push her away again.

Therefore, for her sake, he gave the appearance of relaxing and consciously worked to untense his muscles. He did derive some amount of physical satisfaction feeling her hands run the course of his body, but such pleasure carried little value for him. Far more important were the looming questions and conversation. Until she spoke, they were just playacting that everything was okay.

Jennifer noticed the difference and felt gratified that he was starting to feel comfortable. Since Jack was relaxing, she didn't want to bring up issues that would bother him, but she had waited long enough to explain why she had stayed away and why she had come back.

"I told my grandmother about Lawrence," Jennifer began. "I'm realizing that I need to do a better job of advocating for myself and what I need instead of trying to be unobtrusive. People care about me and want to help and won't turn and run because things get tough."

Jack turned over so he could look into her eyes, "You mean like me?"

Jennifer shook her head; that's not what she meant and that wasn't the road she wanted to travel down with him. "No. you did push me a way for a long time but that's because of what you were going through. Because you were hurting and believe me, I understand that inclination all too well now because I was doing the same thing. You never pushed me away because I needed you too much. When I do need you, you're always there. You have been for a long time and I know that I can count on you. You've been great through this whole thing, supporting me, loving me…and giving me distance when I needed that too."

Jack steeled himself; he knew the time to talk about the confession had come.

Jennifer wanted to tell him this next part with him facing away; it would be easier to get the words out and to explain. "Turn back over," she requested and Jack obliged.

Jennifer made a little space for herself to sit on the couch next to Jack, still lying, face down. She kept her closest hand, palm down, on his back, needing to maintain that physical connection. "I love you; you know that. And I knew in my heart and my head what I wanted for my life and for my future, but my conscience told me to 'Stop. Slow down. You're at a crossroads. Take your time here at the crossroads and consider all the possible paths of your life. Calmly. Patiently. Deliberately.'"

Jennifer paused; knowing this next part would be difficult to admit and difficult to hear. "I talked with Kayla."

Jack squeezed his eyes shut tight. He didn't think he could bear hearing this. He certainly couldn't discuss Kayla with almost no clothes on. He pushed himself up, eased past her and stood up to put his pants back on.

Jennifer realized him doing that was because this conversation would be difficult for him to hear, but it just needed to be said once so that it could finally be put away forever. "As a woman…as a rape…survivor, I needed to hear her, I suppose. I needed her to know that I didn't think of what happened to her as nothing. That I wasn't so lovesick for you or blind, that I just disregarded what happened to her. And I didn't disregard her, not before and not now. But with everything that happened, the words just finally needed to be said between Kayla and me. Before I could become your wife, I needed to put the past to rest with your ex-wife."

Jack sat down beside her and turned to look at her.

"She really helped me through several things," Jennifer was hesitant to proceed, "Also, she asked me what you had said in the counseling session."

Jack audibly gasped. He had not expected that; he certainly couldn't be mad at either of them though.

"She wanted to know your motivations and she could never ask you directly. So I told her what you said and she told me about afterwards," Jennifer paused before continuing, "She said you apologized."

A lot of other things Jack said that night came flooding back to him, "I said a lot of things."

Jennifer wondered what else he meant, but if neither Jack nor Kayla were willing to say, then it wasn't her business. "That's all she told me."

Jack had been sitting beside her and wanted to get up and pace the room, but he stayed close beside her. He didn't want any distance between them or any barriers—even if that barrier was just a coffee table. "And you decided to come back…to me? Are you sure that is what you really want now that you know the truth? You'll never be able to forget what I said—what I did."

Jennifer shook her head. She knew that separating them, as she had, had been drastic and she needed to do something equally drastic now.

Jennifer picked up his hand, kissed his palm and put his hand over her heart. Flat up covering part of her breast. It was an incredibly intimate and trusting gesture and it showed the truth of the words that followed. She glanced at his hand for a brief second, but she kept her gaze fixed on his eyes. "My heart and my mind are too full with other memories."

She paused and gave a small smile as she decided which memories to enumerate, "You trying to impress me by dressing in that ridiculous leather outfit, you looking at me after I got out of the spring on the island and telling me I was beautiful, you telling me that 'no one would love me the way you love me'—and you were right about that. The way you kissed me in your office last year when I told you how much I believe _in_ you. Those are just a few memories and join those with a thousand more that were poignant, funny, romantic, or loving. With all those memories competing for residence in my mind and heart, there is simply no room for me to hold on to what you said to me in the counseling session. So it can't stay here in my heart and mind, because there is no space for it. My heart is too full. I'm not willing to push out any other memories to make room for it."

There was achingly sweet finality to her voice. For her, his past was in the past and would not affect them any further in their relationship. She would never hold him to account for it again.

Jack inwardly rebelled against that notion. For him, things were complex, complicated, and conditional. Everything must be qualified and given shading. For Jennifer, things were simple and uncomplicated and her love was unconditional. He just hadn't grown up with that and it appealed to him. That was part of the reason he loved her so much. Her love wasn't conditional and couldn't be withheld like with Harper. She wasn't so judgmental like Angelica. And yet, it wasn't just those simple qualities that bound him so strongly to her. It wasn't her acceptance, her cleverness, her compassion. It wasn't any single trait or combination of traits—it was _her_.

He wasn't sure when it happened since it had been so gradual so he couldn't pinpoint an exact instance or exact moment when they had crossed over from friends to…what were they? More than boyfriend/girlfriend obviously, definitely more than fiancées, Melissa had been a fiancé and they were nothing like this. Maybe Steve was right and they were soulmates—maybe that was the best word to describe them. His life, his destiny, his every thought and action now and for the rest of his life would be inextricably bound with hers. It seemed like it transcended beyond marriage, beyond vows, beyond logic. He had taken those wedding vows before and those relationships didn't seem anywhere near as permanent as this assurance of loving her and being united with her on some profound level for always.

He had never believed in _always_ before. He had seen too many political careers, too many marriages, too many campaign promises end. He grew up believing that the only constant in life was change. Nothing was permanent. But he was feeling permanence now. It was intoxicating.

"Jennifer," he whispered. She rewarded him with a small smile. He reached his hand up to caress her cheeks. His fingers danced across her face, feeling her forehead, her cheek, down to her chin and ascending up her other cheek. His touch was feather light, but he would continue for as long as she would allow him this intimacy.

Jack bit his lip. He had to fight hard this time to keep back his tears. He almost didn't succeed. He outlined the shape of her lips and moved in closer to her.

He removed his hands from her unforgettable face and caught hers. He brought her hands together and held them in his. "I don't want to screw up things so I'm asking..."

"Jack, what?"

"May I kiss you?" He pursed his lips in fear that she would say no. He didn't want to push their reunion too far. He didn't want to put her in the position of saying 'no' and he didn't want to hear it. Every night that she had been gone from him and slept over at the loft was 'no' enough—was rejection enough even though he knew it entirely deserved.

A big grin developed on Jennifer's face and she shyly nodded.

Jack changed from his sitting position to kneeling before her. He brought his palm back to her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. His forefinger moved to her ruby lips and outlined their shape once more.

He stopped. "Jennifer, Jennifer, open your eyes. Let's promise not to complicate matters. Okay? It's just a kiss—nothing more…for now. I promise. Don't ever worry about…don't ever wonder…"

Jennifer snaked her arms around his neck. Her lips touched his. She wanted him to know that she was sure about his kiss. Sure about him. Sure about this. Sure about them.

Jack felt her shivering and her heart beat underneath his fingers on her neck, thrilled to be so close, electrified by the complicated yet, oh so enticingly familiar passion. She leaned into him, ensuring he knew she was equally willing in this kiss. His insides were relieved, awake, terrified. He touched and kissed and felt lost in her lips.

A steady knock on the door restored gravity within the penthouse and brought both of them crashing back to earth.

 _Dammit!_

"Who is it?" Jack asked, his voice cracking.

"It's Steve."

 _Damn. Can't send Steve away._ He'd try anyway. "Call you tomorrow?"

"This is important Jack," Steve called through the door.

Jennifer mouthed, "It's okay."

 _Fine_. "Be right there."

Jack grabbed his shirt and did up a few buttons before making his way to the door.

Steve barreled through the doorway as soon as it was open. "I've been thinking that we can't just sit around…" Steve stopped when he noticed Jennifer sitting on the armrest of the couch.

Steve turned back to Jack and noticed that his shirt was partially buttoned and mis-buttoned with his shirt tails all askew. Steve's eyes got wide and he felt instantly embarrassed. These were tentative times for them. Getting physical for them was precarious and delicate right now. He didn't want to spoil anything for them. "Sorry, I should have guessed when you asked to call me tomorrow," Steve looked back at Jennifer, "I didn't realize."

Jennifer waved him off, but had trouble finding the words to explain, "It's not what you think. It was…an experiment."

Jack nodded a little. He still didn't feel comfortable with Steve knowing details about his sex life.

Steve decided that a quick exit would be the best, "I will call you tomorrow."

Jennifer replied, "No, it must be important. I'll be…elsewhere." She pointed towards the back room, stood up and walked towards the bedroom. Before she was out of sight, she turned back around and gave Jack a sweet smile.

Steve just had to ask, "So you two aren't as over as you thought when we talked about it on my porch swing?"

"No, not since last night."

"Sorry I interrupted."

Jack waved that off, wanting to get away from any specifics about his romantic life with Steve, "No need to apologize. So what were you saying about sitting?"

"That we shouldn't be sitting. It won't take Lawrence too long to lick his wounds from the marriage debacle. He won't forget that defeat easily. We should be prepared."

"And when we least expect it, expect it, right?" Jack said glumly. He remembered a time when he'd used those words with Steve and Kayla.

"Exactly," Steve replied. He obviously didn't remember Jack saying that before. "We need to get more ammunition to use against Lawrence and we need to do it _fast_."

"What are you thinking?"

"What I'm thinking is that you and I need to go take a look around Alamain's estate. And we need to do it soon and on the sly. Are you in?"

 _Was he in?_ Steve was the best brother that Jack could ever hope for. Of course he was in. Jack nodded, "Name the date and the meet-up place and I'll be there."

"Good," Steve slapped Jack on his upper arm and edged toward the door. "Goodbye Jennifer," he called.

Jennifer came out of his bedroom just in time to hear one final swish of Steve's leather jacket before he was gone.

"Everything okay?" Jennifer asked.

"Sure. Sure. Nothing to worry about."

The lighthearted moment in which they were kissing earlier had passed. Jennifer wanted to go back into his arms, but she wasn't feeling quite so brave and reckless now. They were stopped for now. It was probably better to stay stopped than to resume their kissing only to stop again.

"Shall we head off to sleep?" Jennifer asked.

In answer, Jack offered up his hand and she accepted. He stood there for a long moment, staring at her hand in his. He remembered once more all of the awful things he had done with these hands and promised himself once more that he would never be like that again.

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"Steve?" Kayla called from the kitchen. She was getting the crock pot ready with food for tomorrow's dinner.

"Yeah, you heard correctly, babe." They met up in the living room with a heartfelt kiss and a long hug.

When Kayla stepped back, she paused and looked around. "Did you bring the milk?"

Steve grimaced. He'd forgotten.

Kayla waved it off, "Not a problem."

"Sorry, had some other things going on."

"Not a crisis, Steve. Kidnapping? Prison for murder? Those are crises. Forget it and let me enjoy you. I haven't seen you all day."

Kayla took him by the hand and led him over to the sofa. Unconsciously, she reached over and smoothed out his shirt, his hair. She had loved the intimacy, familiarity, and domesticity they had ever since Steve had come home from the hospital after the boat explosion. They'd had several months relatively free of drama and heartache. She just got to be at home with her husband and daughter and loved it. She hoped it could stay like this forever.

"How was your day?"

"Okay. I did stop to see Jack. Jennifer was there. She looked good—better."

Kayla debated about starting this conversation, but trudged forward anyway. "Jennifer came here yesterday. She wanted to discuss Jack."

Steve had wondered if Jennifer and Kayla would talk ever since Jack told him that he divulged everything. He supposed it was inevitable. "Was it difficult? I—I know Jack gave her a full confession."

Kayla looked at him surprised—that he had known and hadn't said anything. But she guessed it was his effort to keep his relationship with Jack separate from her. "No, not really. I probably would prefer discussing my episiotomy than that night, but Jennifer needed to be heard and needed to be validated. It was okay."

Kayla continued, "He told it accurately to Jennifer—the same way I remember it, I mean. I wasn't sure with all his denials and the excuses he gave at the time and we've never discussed specifics since."

Steve leaned forward and steepled his fingers over his face. That was such a tough time for Steve to remember: Kayla's pain, Steve controlling everyone's life like some damnable puppeteer, his baby brother morphing into an unrecognizable monster. "Jack and I have barely discussed it either. The only time we ever really did was the night he found out about Jennifer. He knows what he did—trust me."

Kayla sat back on the sofa and hugged herself like she suddenly felt a chill, "I still have a tough time deciding my feelings about him. He was basically a good person before that night and he was vicious and cruel from that night up until Harper attacked me and I lost my hearing. He tortured us for months."

"Yeah, I remember," Steve replied in a dull monotone. He hated going back to those painful days, but he acknowledged it was inevitable with everything happening.

"I still struggle with my feelings for him," Kayla continued, "It was just months, really—how much can months decide a life? What can I call him? What category can I put him in? With Lawrence or Victor—certainly not. But can he really be compared with you, with my brothers, with Mike? Is that fair to you?"

They both let that question hang in the air for several moments. "I've forgiven him. I have forgiven him. But I haven't accepted it, if you can understand the distinction. And that makes me feel stuck sometimes because I like who he is now. I can laugh at his jokes and admire how he did that swordfighting against Lawrence at his villa, how he has stood by Jennifer, how he came around to loving you. And he was there for me—more than anyone else—while you were in the hospital last fall. More than my folks or my brothers, I did rely on him and lean on him, literally and figuratively, during those black days. And yet…and yet, when Jennifer was here and saying that he was the most amazing person in the world to her, a small part of me inwardly recoiled like she was Melissa all over again."

Steve picked up her hand and stroked it. Steve and Kayla rarely discussed Jack and never discussed that dark time. "You know that Jack and Jennifer aren't like that. They've been on the same path as you and I were."

"I know," Kayla agreed quietly. "It's just difficult thinking that he's anything like you. And yet, I know the facts of everything that happened. He was a good person before and I can acknowledge that he's a good person now too. So what happened to him during those months? I've always wondered that. Was it inevitable? That night, if I had told him that you were his brother then he likely would have stopped. He wouldn't have believed me probably, but he would've been so shocked that he would've stopped."

Steve shook his head, "Don't say that Kayla. This wasn't your fault. We can't rewrite history. Regardless of how I feel now about Jack, I will never forget that time. And I absolutely don't expect you to ever forget it either or borrow any of the blame for yourself."

Kayla couldn't let one aspect of it go, "Since Jack is a good person—was before, is now—what happened to him during those months? How could he lose his grasp on his basic morality and come disconnected from his innate integrity? How fragile are all of us? How easy would it be for any one of us to untether ourselves from our own decency?"

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Jack turned over in bed and stared at his clock radio: 2:48. He couldn't sleep. Moonglow was spilling through the bedroom window and illuminating Jennifer sleeping peacefully. She was beautiful. When they slept, he usually kept one arm underneath her pillow and one hand on her stomach. She could feel encircled, protected, and his hand never wandered higher or lower. That intrinsic trust was absolute. But each night that they slept side by side was becoming more difficult as he ached for need of her. She was so enticingly close and yet so unquestionably restricted. He wanted her. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough with him again. He wanted Lawrence's imprint in their lives to disappear forever.

He desired her. He could control the yearning of course, but he could not turn it off. He couldn't make it go away—and he didn't want to. He wanted to always crave her, always need her just like he did in that moment—even when they are as old as Tom and Alice. That thought made him smile a little—the idea of _old_ Jack being all 'hot-to-trot' for _older_ Jennifer, slow-chasing her around a coffee table, she with her walker and he with his cane.

But at the moment, that image was not helping his situation. He flipped from his side to his back. That provided some distance so he could no longer see her face or feel her body up against him, but the mental path was set and it was difficult to deviate from it. Finally, in frustration, he rose up from bed and ventured out to the balcony. He didn't bother with his robe. He wanted the cold air ripping through him to settle his thoughts.

He wasn't gone long when Jennifer noticed his absence from the bed. She spied his silhouette on the balcony, dug her robe out of her bag, grabbed a blanket to warm him, and padded out to be with him.

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his stomach. "Come on, Jack. You know I love you. I'm sorry I stayed away."

Jack immediately interrupted her, "Please don't apologize. Never apologize for that."

Jennifer continued, "Our life has taken over my mind, my heart, my spirit, my every waking moment, my every restless night." She squeezed him tighter and tasted salty, happy tears and swiped them away.

He pulled out of the embrace and turned around to face her, "Don't cry, love," he whispered. "I promise everything will be okay."

Moonlight spilled across Jennifer's shoulders as she picked up his hand and kissed it.

Jennifer moved closer, overwhelming him with an intoxicating scent of vanilla. The perfume seemed even more erotic here. She traced a finger down his cheek and around to the back of his neck, twirling the hair of his bangs that always and adorably fell across his forehead.

The moon appeared big and bright on a featureless night. Jennifer looked skyward, "I've always loved the moon, especially when I was a little girl and afraid of the dark."

Jack stared at Jennifer, his eyes wistful and surprised at Jennifer's admission. She worked hard at hiding any oblique hint of weakness, but she occasionally would make an admission that penetrated through that aura of invincibility.

Jennifer looked down at his hands, their hands. She then pointed at part of the moon, close to the equator, a little right of center. "Right there is _Mare Tranquillitatis_ , the Sea of Tranquility. That's where the Apollo 11 capsule landed. Thanks to you, I feel like I'm there right now. I feel tranquil, here, in this incredible place with you, and I'm not wondering about how I messed up my life because of Lawrence and got it off track. I am content. You have restored me. Maybe it's just for tonight. Maybe tomorrow I'll remember everything that he did and what we're up against, but this feeling is marvelous."

Jack shifted so he could envelop her with his arms. He was behind her and a few weeks ago, that would have startled her and she would have instinctually tensed up. Tonight, she relaxed into his arms. It was a small, but profound change and Jack noticed.

"The Sea of Tranquility," Jack repeated; he was not normally given to sentimental notions, but everything about Jennifer was overwhelming and he was slowly letting go of his purely Jack reactions and embracing a 'Jack and Jennifer' reaction. All part of being a soulmate, he supposed. "That sounds beautiful." He looked down at her and kissed the top of her head, leaving most of his thoughts unsaid.


	18. Chapter 18

It was early morning a few days after Steve had broached the idea of breaking and entering into Lawrence's estate. Steve had called him up late the night before and told him that this was the day for action. Steve had waited to the last minute because he didn't want Jack to worry or overthink what they were about to do.

Jack and Steve sat in the borrowed car about a block away from Alamain's house. They were waiting for him to leave for the day so they could go inside his house to look for evidence. It had been Steve's idea and Jack trusted him and knew that he could rely on his older brother. In the meantime, they just had to stay unobtrusive and patient.

They had remained silent for a while, nursing their thermoses of hot coffee. After about ten minutes of silence and Jack's internal debate about raising this topic, Jack plunged ahead, "Steve, thanks really for all your help with Alamain. You could've kept your distance and I wouldn't blame you—because of the past, because of the boat explosion. You had a lot of reasons to back away and I'm really _grateful_ that you didn't."

"Jack, we're pretty sure that Alamain caused that boat explosion. Who knows what additional damage he will do if we don't stop him. I've resented guys like Alamain for years. I can't let him get away with everything he's done here in Salem and to the people I care about. It's not just for you, but also for Bo who was the intended target of that boat explosion, Kayla who was almost widowed that day, and Jennifer who's been hurt most of all."

"Okay, I've needed you here with me, battling against Alamain. You've kept me focused and grounded. I know that I'm not going too far in my revenge against him as long as you are acting beside me. Ever since I found out about what he did to Jennifer, I could feel myself sliding backwards, back towards the darkness and all the evil, vile things I would like to do to him. You know me, you know what I've done and I've been teetering on a knife edge. I've been scared. And I know this is an awful time to be honest about this stuff because I've been not telling you and not telling Jennifer about this for weeks. You wouldn't believe the ways I wanted to torture Lawrence."

"Jack, we've all had those thoughts, we've all had those ideas stuck in our head."

"Yes, but I am capable. I know I am capable and I feel sometimes I'm getting sucked back in."

Steve cringed; Jack needed to stay focused on the job, not the past, not the dead and buried ghosts. "Look, I knew Harper. I knew Duke. You're not like either one of them. Not now. Not even then to be totally honest. Stop trying to talk yourself into something that you're not. Jennifer needs you in the moment. I _definitely_ need you right now here…in this moment. The past is dead. Get over yourself."

At that moment, they spied Lawrence's limousine exiting the driveway. Steve could make out Lawrence's profile in the back seat and knew it was time to move. "Jack we can't talk about this now. Look, you were a jerk. You were a cruel, sadistic ass and I hated your guts. You're not one anymore. Stay that way. Simple as that. Stop overthinking it. But right now, we've got a job to do."

Steve debated his options and thought it would be less risky given Jack's current mental state to just have him sit in the car and act as the getaway driver. He knew going into Lawrence's house was not good for Jack at the moment and he could blow the entire agenda. Steve had done these break-ins too many times and knew that having a straight level-headed partner mattered the most. He was worried about Jack and decided on a change in the game plan.

"New plan," Steve said as he eased their car close to the back entrance. "I'm going in alone. You stay out here and act as lookout. Slide over into the driver's seat and be ready to drive off."

Jack grimaced. Steve was looking at him the same way as when they were on the island and Jack's gun accidentally fired off a few rounds. He felt like he'd always be the baby brother. Jack nodded and picked up the two-way radio. This wasn't a good time to pout. Of course, ten minutes ago wasn't a good time to start baring his soul and all his self-doubts either.

"Great," Steve replied. "You stay here. I'm counting on you, Billy Jack."

Jack sat outside, huddled down in the car, watching the minutes click by. He supposed Steve was right to leave Jack in the car; he definitely did not have the stomach for this sort of crime. He knew Lawrence was capable of violence and potentially deadly retaliation. Steve almost died for Lawrence trying to get revenge on Bo. He just wished that Steve would hurry up and Jack regretted putting him in this position in the first place. Jack kept looking around, worried that any second Lawrence would come back and Steve would be trapped inside. Steve's voice came over the CB radio, "Jack, Jack, dammit, answer me."

"I'm here," Jack answered in a halting voice.

"Quickly now, what's the date that Lawrence attacked Jennifer?" Steve asked through the radio.

Jack was confused by the question, "What?"

Steve was starting to sound pissed, "The date. Do you know the date? When did he rape Jennifer?"

Jack sputtered out the answer, "The wedding day, November 5th. In his bedroom. Why?"

"Okay, November 5. Have to go. Be out soon. Have the car ready," Steve barked at him through the radio.

Jack started up the car and looked around for Steve, other cars, and the way to get out.

About a minute later, Jack saw Steve come out of the bushes and he tumbled into the car.

"Go. Let's get out of here." Heart racing and sweating, Jack stared at the road ahead and peeked at his brother as much as possible. He knew Steve was good at this sort of caper. Jack knew that getting caught would have had disastrous ramifications.

"Where are we going?" Jack asked as he was driving. Fortunately, by that time, they had cleared the Alamain estate and Jack was feeling much better.

Steve glanced at Jack nearly hyperventilating, "Go to my house. I don't think this type of adventure is your style."

"Y'think?" Jack barked back. "Why were you asking about that date?" Jack asked, not quite so frenetic, but still very serious.

"It looks like Lawrence records everything. I had to take the tapes out of the machines being recorded while I was there or we would have been documented as being all over the grounds." Steve held up his black bag. I have tapes from today so there's no evidence of us being there and tapes from November 5th at his villa."

Jack nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. He managed to steer the car back, overcorrected, but finally got the car back in the proper lane of traffic. He then did a double-take at his brother, "Don't say another word until we get to your house. But check behind us; make sure no one is following us."

Steve smiled; Jack was skilled in several things and had pulled off the wedding license con without a hitch but wasn't really used to such high-stakes, high-adrenalin adventures. Steve wasn't sure whether it would be better to get him used to it or to have him sit them out from then on, "Nervous much?"

They weren't far; five minutes and they'd be there…back at Steve's house. Jack didn't want to think. Jack didn't want to consider the possibility that there was actually a video…in Steve's bag…that contained the…the rape.

Lawrence wouldn't record in his bedroom, would he? He wouldn't keep such damning evidence, would he?

Jack pulled into the driveway. When he exited the car, he was careful to look around and scan behind them.

When they barreled through the front door, Steve called out, "Kayla!" A moment later, "Kayla?" Still no answer. "Not home. We're good. She was supposed to be out, but you never know."

"Let's go through what you brought."

They separated out the tapes that Steve had carried off—the ones from today and the ones from November 5th. One from that date was clearly marked 'Master Bedroom.'

"Oh God," Jack started feeling light-headed and needed to sit down.

Steve started slowly, "Jack, we need to know if we can use that. We need to know if we have any proof that would help Jennifer at trial. It can be very difficult to prove it was rape without corroborating evidence," Jack looked up at Steve at that moment. Of course Jack knew all about that, but didn't want to think about that now. "If there is anything on these tapes that can help Jennifer if she decides to go to court, then we should know before we tell her."

Jack shook his head, revulsion plain on his face, "I can't watch that. I won't!"

Steve took it out of the bag with his gloved hands and put it into his VCR. "Well far better you than me. You are her boyfriend; you've been intimate. I have zero right at all to watch something like that. It must be you." Jack still shook his head, horrified at the idea, so Steve added, "You don't have to watch the whole thing—just enough to know if it would help."

"Steve, I love her. Do you know how hard it was to hear what he did?" Jack wanted to bite those words back. Of course Steve knew.

"If Jennifer can get a conviction based on that tape and not even go to court, wouldn't that be good for her? Wouldn't that be good for both of you?"

"And what? I'm going to take it to the police station where 50 cops are going to watch it? You think that would help Jennifer?"

Steve shook his head, "That would never happen. Roman and I would never let that happen, Jack, I swear." Steve started for the dining room and then paused, "Don't touch the videotape without gloves. We need that as evidence, and don't want our fingerprints on it—don't want to give Alamain's lawyers any excuses to toss it out. Okay?"

Jack nodded, already feeling sick and he hadn't even pressed 'play' yet. With that, Steve was gone and Jack was alone in their living room—just him and an awful task before him.

He picked up the remote, realized it was the wrong remote and then picked up another remote control and pressed play, his fingers shaking. Jack immediately recognized Lawrence's bedroom and the video camera had been well placed at a good vantage point to see everything. Jack's nausea only grew. In the middle of the frame at the back of the room was Lawrence's bed. His dread mounted knowing that he could see everything if the rape had been captured on this videotape. The bedroom was empty and he could see a wall clock at an oblique angle. It showed 3:25. It was too early. He pushed fast forward and saw nothing happen instead of the wall clock accelerating through time.

He pushed stop when he saw on the videotape that Jennifer had entered the room. She was wearing the wedding dress and the emerald necklace at her throat. She looked as beautiful as she had on that day and they shared their personal wedding vows.

Jack pushed play and buried his face in his hands, shielding his eyes behind his fingertips. He could listen—up to a point, but he couldn't watch. He could never watch such a thing being done. After a few minutes, he heard Lawrence's voice, he heard Jennifer offering him champagne. Jack knew she was stalling Lawrence; she was expecting him to appear at any moment like he'd promised he remembered guiltily. Jack starting sinking into a morass of shame and dread as he heard them kissing. He could hear Jennifer squirming and struggling and a minute later he could hear her screaming. Jack was frozen. He wanted to push stop on the machine; he had heard more than enough to satisfy the police, more than he ever wanted to hear. But he was paralyzed to his core. All he could hear was the screaming—the soul-breaking screams of his beloved.

The next thing he heard was not a scream, but a shocked "What the hell?" It wasn't coming from the videotape; it was Kayla's voice and it came from the room—behind him. He turned around and saw Kayla and Jennifer standing behind, mouths agape and their arms filled with birthday party supplies. Jennifer dropped those bags to the floor. While the tape was playing, Jack hadn't been able to hear Kayla's key turning in the lock or hear them come in. Thank God that Stephanie wasn't with them.

Jack quickly ran to the machine and pushed stop, not trusting the VCR remote to act properly in that moment.

"What the hell is that? What the hell kind of perversion did you bring into my home?" Kayla demanded still stunned. She didn't know the content. Kayla didn't realize that was Lawrence and Jennifer.

Jack was still speechless, unable to explain. Jennifer was speechless too; Jennifer knew what that video was and recognized the scene immediately. She couldn't process the concept of seeing her worst nightmare, her worst memory was playing out on the television. Jennifer couldn't understand how Jack had such a tape, why he was watching such a thing. Jennifer was beyond all thought, except feeling violated all over again.

Jack did the only think he knew to do; he called out for his big brother, "Steve!" He waited a few heartbeats, then yelled louder, "STEVE!"

Jack needed Steve to explain—especially to Kayla. He was struggling too much to find the words.

Steve came bounding out, saw the tense stand-off between Kayla and Jack, and saw Jennifer just struggling not to lose her footing.

"Damn," Steve muttered. He should have gone out to the front porch instead of the dining room. He cursed himself at his thoughtlessness.

Jennifer's mind was swimming and it was hard for her to stay standing. The room was swaying. That had been her voice. That had been her…exposed. The worst moment in her life maintained for posterity on a videotape. Lawrence had recorded. Jennifer felt violated and small all over again. She wanted to run home and take a shower. And somehow…somehow…Jack had it? _Jack was watching it?_

Steve addressed Kayla first, "This was my doing. This was all my doing," he said trying to remove responsibility from Jack.

Kayla wasn't assuaged. "What the hell was that?"

Jack finally found his footing and circled around the sofa to be near to Jennifer. He also found his voice for explanations now that Steve was here to confirm it for Kayla, "It was evidence. We stole it today from Lawrence's house."

Jennifer stuttered out, "He videotaped us? He recorded what…he did…and kept it?"

Kayla turned to Jennifer, now she understood the situation better and what she had walked in on.

Asking her initial question, Jennifer now had a torrent of several more, "Who's seen it? How many copies are out there? Does he watch it…for pleasure?"

Jack winced and shook his head; he had no answers to those questions.

Steve stepped towards Jennifer, he was pretty sure of the answer to this question, but needed it confirmed. "Jack, it'll work…as evidence?"

"I couldn't watch it," Jack admitted, "but from what I heard, yes."

"Jennifer," Steve said gingerly, "I know this may not seem like it at this moment, but trust me, this is a very good thing for you. If you decide to press charges, then it won't be a case of your word against his. You have irrefutable proof that he attacked you. I know it must be awful for you to imagine that the tape is out there and that a judge, the DA, a whole jury may see it, but it makes things a thousand times easier to get justice-if that's what you want to do. His lawyer can't cross-examine you quite so harshly, try to make you out to be a liar or a tease or anything else that rape defendants try as their stock defense. The outcome is far more guaranteed now that Lawrence will go to prison."

Kayla put her arm around Jennifer, "Steve's right. A rape trial can be very tough to go through—I won't sugar coat that to you. But sincerely, I felt a lot better afterwards—that I stood up for myself." Kayla realized the unparalleled awkwardness of saying that with Jack in the room, but Jennifer was her primary concern here. She had been reticent about speaking of Jack with Jennifer, but since they had their talk, the topic didn't seem quite so forbidden. "People wouldn't have been so quick to doubt me back then if I had a videotape like that."

Jack looked up to the ceiling and turned around; his past and present were all colliding in this moment and it was just so damn hard. He felt deeply shamed once more.

Kayla noticed that and addressed him, "Yes, Jack, that's the way it was and I fully intend to be honest with Jennifer. I won't censor myself to spare your feelings."

Jack turned back towards her; if she was okay speaking frankly then he'd give her the same courtesy. "I'd never ask that. I think she needs the benefit of your experience. Jennifer, if you want to press charges, then here is some great evidence to prove your story. Don't give one second worry about me," looking back and forth between Jennifer and Kayla, "either of you, and I promise you have my full and unqualified support. If you decide to press charges and if Lawrence is stupid enough to not plead it out since he was already stupid and arrogant enough to record and keep this videotape, then I will be there everyday of the trial for you."

Kayla asked the necessary question. She knew Jennifer mentioned it the day of their talk, but the possibility of pressing charges seemed far more real now, "Would you like to bring charges against him?"

Jennifer took a step back. She and Kayla had a fun and carefree day shopping for birthday decorations—what could be more innocent than that? Then to suddenly be bombarded with unexpectedly seeing the tape, realizing that the tape existed, and then contemplating the ramifications and potential consequences, it was all just too much. Things were moving too fast

"The court would accept the tape?" Jennifer asked. "Lawrence's lawyers could get it thrown out."

Steve nodded yes, "That's always a possibility. That's why I was careful about not leaving fingerprints on the tape, not leaving any trace of us at the Alamain mansion; if we submit it anonymously to the police—to Roman actually, then we should be safe. There should be no basis for 'fruit of the poisonous tree' by Lawrence's lawyer for getting it thrown out.

Jack broke in, "And if that does happen, then I can release an edited, blurry version of it within the media so that the whole world is convinced of his guilt. Believe me, that is _a lot_ to live with." Jack determinedly avoided looking at Kayla when he said that. He knew he had never spent a day in prison for what he had done and not sure of how Kayla felt about that. And yet here he was now, advocating to send Lawrence to prison.

Steve was reticent about making this suggestion, but he knew he couldn't give the best advice. "Jennifer, I'm learning about the police protocol and all the intricacies of admissible evidence, but I'm still not the best person to advise you. I would recommend Roman—he's been at the police force long enough to know what is acceptable and what isn't—or your Uncle Mickey. Who would you prefer that we call and ask about how to proceed?

Jennifer backed up a few steps. She knew everyone was well-meaning and held her best interests, but they were all staring at her expecting an answer and she felt very conspicuous. She was still reeling from seeing herself on that damnable videotape. _Good God, he really is sick!_ She wanted to make sure that would be his undoing. Lawrence's arrogance, his belief in his own infallibility would destroy him. He did not destroy her, she assured herself. He did not ruin her, but he was about to do that to himself. Steve was right. This was good news that it existed. She knew from being a reporter that juries liked to see bruises, liked to hear that the rapist was a stranger, liked to imagine that some evil man jumped out from the bushes. Those were the rapists that juries liked to convict—not good-looking sophisticated worldly men that the accuser was supposedly married to, especially when there was no physical evidence. However, this was just happening too fast and she wasn't doing well managing expectations. Talking about this with Uncle Mickey would be too stressful—almost as bad as talking about it with her dad. She needed some distance—some emotional distance—to talk about this objectively.

"I'll talk to Roman," she said finally.

Kayla put her hand on Jennifer's arm, "Is it okay for me to call him now?"

Jennifer nodded. Seeing that video, knowing it existed revealed to her the full extent and depth of Lawrence's depravity, his entitlement, and his self-absorption. It lit a fierce fire in her gut. "Here's fine. Now's fine. What about Stephanie?"

Kayla reached up to smooth Jennifer's hair. Jennifer was really a warm and caring person, always thinking of others, "Stephanie's okay. She's with my mom."

Jennifer reached up and gave Kayla's hand a quick squeeze, "I'd like to do this now before I lose my nerve."

"Okay, I'll go call my brother." And Kayla was gone.

Jack was astounded at the new closeness that now existed between Jennifer and Kayla. It was unnerving, but of course, he'd say nothing and just deal with it. If Kayla was able to tolerate him standing up as Best Man at her wedding, then he could damn well not allow himself to be affected by her newfound friendship with Jennifer.

In the interim, Steve retrieved the video cassette and placed it in a large Ziploc bag from the kitchen.

Jack felt terrible that Jennifer had walked in on that scene playing on a TV in Steve's and Kayla's living room—completely unwarned and unprepared. "Jennifer, I'm so sorry about that," he offered up anemically. He reached for her hand and felt her fingers were sweaty and twitchy.

Jennifer was a bundle of nerves and couldn't allow that to be shown. Too much today had been revealed. She shook out of his hand. "It was just bad timing. I can't think about this tape for a moment."

Fifteen minutes later, Roman showed up at the front door and rang the bell. Steve let him in and Roman eyed the group, particularly the presence of Jack warily. They had worked together on the island; Roman knew that Jack was good friends with Isabella, and had been a big hero at Lawrence's villa, but Kayla was his sister and he could never forget what Jack had done.

"Hi Kay, sounded pretty important on the phone," he prompted her when they pulled out of a hug.

"It is. We have-."

Steve stopped her and interrupted. "We have a hypothetical situation that we wanted to run past you to get your opinion. You're far more an expert on evidentiary admissibility than I am right now. Speaking hypothetically, let's say some evidence, like a videotape, with solid indisputable proof of a crime was sent to the police station anonymously—the police had no part in getting it—then would it be admissible in court? _Hypothetically_?"

Roman's gaze looked at Steve, then Kayla, then Jack, then Jennifer. Now, he really felt thrown by the situation here.

Roman shook his head, "If the defendant's lawyers want to fight the admission of evidence, then it would probably get tossed out. Otherwise the cops could try that with every bit of evidence to circumvent the 'fruit of the poisonous tree' requirement."

Jack spoke up next, "What if, _hypothetically_ , the police search someone else's work or residence on a legally obtained and executed search warrant and find this videotape? Would it be more likely then?"

Again Roman shook his head, "Well, that would be better, but still not guaranteed. The videotape would likely not be covered within the scope of the search warrant and thus still be considered inadmissible."

Jennifer spoke up next, "What if, _hypothetically_ , the person in question is arrested for minor, but unrelated charges, and this videotape happens to be in this person's possession at the time of the arrest?"

Roman changed his stance with that question, "Well, that's a whole other situation entirely. That would most likely be admissible. The accused's lawyer would have a very tough time making an argument then. In this hypothetical situation, the unrelated charges couldn't be frivolous though."

Jack and Steve exchanged knowing glances. They knew they'd hit on the best next step. Jack didn't want Roman included any further at this stage. However, he knew that he couldn't be the one to end the conversation with Kayla's brother in Kayla's and Steve's house. Instead, Jack tilted his head toward Roman while holding Steve's eye contact.

Steve understood Jack's message. He clapped his hands together; the loud noise reverberated through the house and startled Jennifer. "Well, that's great Roman. We really appreciate your time on this. We had some bets going and the debating was getting quite…quite vociferous." Steve walked over to the door and held it open. "Thanks again, really. See you tomorrow?"

Roman was surprised by the change in Steve's tone and his barely concealed request to leave. He figured that whatever the four of them were cooking up that he'd find out about it soon. If the hypothetical situation ever became real, it was preferable that he had been truly in the dark.

After the door closed, Kayla immediately asked, "Why did you do that? We need him on our side."

Steve hated debating her, "Roman is on our side of course, but he can't know anything about the setup. If Alamain's lawyers ever call him on the witness stand about the videotape, he needs to know only and exactly what will keep that tape admissible."

Kayla conceded the point, "So obviously, Jennifer's scenario is the best—that he get arrested, probably for the boat explosion, and the videotape is found on him."

Jennifer interjected at that point, "But how are we going to get the videotape on him? It's not small enough that we can slip it into his suitcoat pocket. I've never seen him carry a briefcase or with any type of shopping bag."

Jack nodded his head; Jennifer was right. "Well, we're just going to have to create a business deal where he needs to carry papers and the deal is sensitive enough that he comes alone without his henchman."

"Julie?" Steve suggested. "She'll play along for us."

Kayla shook her head, "No, she's too obvious. Lawrence would have his guard up the entire time. Besides, should I point out the obvious fact that Lawrence is going to know that you—or someone—was at his place today? He's going to notice that. You're going to have to move fast, if only for your own protection."

Jennifer looked alarmed at that suggestion, "Kayla's right. I have to press charges against him—if only to help make sure that nothing happens to you two." Jennifer held up her hands to silence them, "But don't get me wrong. I'm glad to do it. Glad to press charges, glad to help protect you after all the protecting you've done for me."

Jack bit his lip and felt instantly guilty, "I never thought of it that way, but you're right of course. We just exposed ourselves."

Steve waved it off, "We were already exposed. We couldn't sit around like idiots waiting for his next strike. He knows that we're dangerous adversaries." Steve thought better of using the word 'exposed.' "Jennifer, I'm sorry, this…situation…has…exposed…you more than any one else. It isn't fair."

Jennifer shook her head, "You didn't create this. Lawrence did and Lawrence will pay. He was arrogant enough to make that tape and keep that tape. His arrogance will be his undoing."

Jack piped up with a non-sequitur, "Victor. Arrange a business meeting between Lawrence and Victor."

Steve looked at Jack as though he just threw a pumpkin at his head. "Victor? We can't trust him. I don't care how buddy-buddy you got with him on the island. I don't trust him. I'm not working with him _ever_."

Jack's mischievous smile grew, "Exactly. Lawrence won't suspect a thing. I don't trust The Mustache either, but I do trust Isabella. She's a good friend to me and she's living with Victor right now. She's come through for us before when Victor kidnapped you," he gestured at Kayla, "She can do this for us now."

Jennifer smiled at that suggestion too, "I trust Isabella too."

Jack turned to his brother, "Steve?" Everyone knew that no one, especially Jack, would move forward on this without Steve's thoughtful consideration and approval.

Steve good-naturedly shrugged, "Looks like we've got a skeleton of a plan. Let's sit down and put some flesh on him."

A little while later, they were sitting on the sofas like they had at the Super Bowl party although this time the talk was much more serious and the stakes a lot greater. Deep into the plans, Jennifer leaned over and whispered in his ear requesting a glass of water. Jack nodded and stood up, leaving Steve and Jennifer in the living room.

He found his way into the kitchen, still feeling awkward of having nearly free reign on the ground floor of Steve's and Kayla's home. When he entered the kitchen, he spotted Kayla making some sandwiches; he counted four in total. Kayla made a sandwich for him. Kayla should never have to make a sandwich for him. He held his breath. Kayla hadn't been sitting, of course, in the living room; she had unobtrusively made her way up and out of the living room about ten minutes earlier. Jack looked back at the living room and wondered if this was Jennifer's motive—to put the two of them in a room alone together so they could have a chance to talk about the ghosts from the past.

Jack cleared his throat to call Kayla's attention. When Kayla turned around, he saw a brief second of recognition and then a polite mask fell over her face. He had seen that polite mask too many times in Washington; the look registered immediately with him.

Jack was fumbling for words; too much had been said about that night between Jack and Jennifer, Jennifer and Kayla, Jack and Steve, and on one extraordinary visit to Jack's office, Kayla to Jack. No conversation, no substantive dialogue had occurred between them—the two principals. So much remained unsaid or only communicated third-hand through Steve or Jennifer. "Umm, Jennifer asked me to fetch her a glass of water."

"Of course," came Kayla's immediate reply. Polite mask firmly in place; it served to discourage Jack from bringing up anything personal between them. Her hands messy with her current kitchen task, she pointed at the cupboard containing the glasses. Jack did as he was beckoned and grabbed a glass from the cupboard and then ran it under the tap.

Jack could not sustain the _status quo_ , he plunged forward and said to Kayla, "Jennifer told me that you two talked. She didn't say much about what was said, but I wanted to thank you. I know it really helped her…and helped us."

Kayla took a long moment to carefully choose her words, "Jennifer is a wonderful woman. Anyone would be lucky to have her."

"Thanks," came Jack's anemic reply.

Kayla turned back to her task slicing tomatoes on the cutting board. She could feel Jack's continued presence in the doorway, still hovering. She could sense him internally debating. Steve did that too; she realized with a shudder that she could sense Jack, read Jack to a certain extent because of his similarities to his brother.

She kept her back to him, but relented. She would offer him an opening, "What's on your mind Jack?"

"It's not important," Jack sputtered.

"Just say it." Kayla was losing her patience. This wasn't a game to her.

Jack quickly exhaled; he didn't know when he'd breathe again. He took a step sideways so that he could lean against the door jamb. "Do you wish I'd gone to prison?" He held his breath waiting for her answer.

Kayla shut her eyes tight; she slowly, consciously placed the knife down on the cutting board. That was not a question she anticipated, but it made sense given all the talk earlier that day about the trial and about trying to send Lawrence to prison. She turned around to face him. The polite mask was gone. Standing before him was honest Kayla—real Kayla—nothing was hidden. "Yes. At the time, especially with all the stunts you were pulling against Steve and me. It made me fearful of how it all would end. But I made my choice with your plea deal. You offered. I accepted. I'm fine with it. I knew that if you ever did anything like that again that you'd go to prison for sure—but you haven't and I'm sure now that you never will. You reformed yourself. You didn't need prison to reform you. I'm okay with how things worked out."

Jack felt lightheaded. He knew her answer would be difficult to listen to. He had always felt like, with that trial, he had played a game of Russian roulette and when the gun fired, he was lucky that there was no bullet and he escaped prison. The truth was she had said pretty much what he expected her to say and it didn't make things more real or easier to absolve or accept. He just regretted asking the question at all. He swore to himself that he would never ask her anything about it ever again.

Kayla wasn't quite finished. "If you have any other questions or anything you _need_ to say, then say it now please and never again after this moment. I'd like to close discussion with you on that chapter for good."

Jack shook his head. He sucked in his breath and then slowly got the words out, "Just that I'm sorry. I'm profoundly sorry. I'd give anything in this life to change what I did—who I was."

Kayla felt torn how to react. She just wanted the reminders to end. "It's over, though. Right?"

Jack nodded.

Kayla indicated the plate of prepared food. "I'm done here. Are you done?"

Incapable of speech, Jack nodded again.

Kayla spoke instead, working hard to maintain her voice even, "Then let's go rejoin Steve and Jennifer and see where we're at with the plan."


	19. Chapter 19

The task was completed at Steve's and Kayla's house; the plan was in place. They had called Isabella and she agreed to her part, anxious to help (especially to Kayla who had gotten convicted and jailed for Marina's murder)

With everything done, the 'doing' gave way to 'thinking.' Jack was weighted down by unhelpful, unwelcome thoughts and they spent the car ride back to the penthouse in near silence.

It was dark out by this time. Nighttime fell early in this part of the year. The dashboard and the passing street lamps provided scant illumination. Most everything was hidden in shadow. The full moon that had shown on them a few days earlier when they stood out on the penthouse balcony had decreased to a third quarter moon and largely hidden behind gray clouds.

Jack wanted to apologize again for Jennifer walking in on that videotape unwarned and unprepared. It had been disastrous timing although she took it extraordinarily well. However, Jack knew they were beyond the constant apologies. Their relationship was deeper than that, stronger than that.

Jack arrived back at the penthouse and parallel parked on the street. He preferred it to the parking garage. With moving out of Harper's house and giving Sheldon three month's severance and letting him go, he was slowly but assuredly transitioning away from being a Deveraux and towards being a Johnson. He didn't want to live an isolated existence behind gates and servants and all of the other unnecessary trappings of his privileged upbringing that kept him isolated from life.

That didn't mean he'd start flying economy. It just meant he stop flying on private planes and automatically choosing his assigned spot in the parking garage instead of the less convenient space on the street.

Jack wanted to reiterate to Jennifer about one point. "I didn't watch the videotape. I couldn't—not after Lawrence came in the room. The only reason I had it on at all was to determined if we had any evidence to help you. I—I wish you hadn't come in-."

Jennifer interrupted him by placing her hand on top of his which was resting on the stick shift. "No. Stop." She let that word hover in the air for a few moments before continuing, "You. Us. Time. My grandmother. ….. Kayla. All of it has helped me regain my strength, regain my voice, re-find me. I'm not that scared girl sitting on the floor of the shower like I was in the aftermath. I'm not afraid to speak anymore. I no longer need to hide myself, curl up inside myself. I think back to how I was. How I couldn't immediately jump into your arms when you gave me your proposal on the rooftop. How I couldn't tell you the truth after I slapped you. How I was paralyzed from speaking the three words that would explain everything: I was raped. I've come a long way since that night that I slapped you. I couldn't spare you from thinking that I was talking about you-please let me finish—that I couldn't rescue you from thinking I had meant to slap you when it was really Lawrence. I have my voice back. I can speak my truth now. You helped me with that. You more than anyone else. By loving me, by standing beside me, by not running away even though I know it was damn hard on you sometimes, for giving me what I needed—whether it was the truth or distance or an escape from the marriage to Lawrence. Knowing that you are beside me and that I have your unflinching support, I know that I am able now to tell everyone including my grandfather and my father and Carly. Lawrence's crimes will not go unanswered."

Jennifer continued on after Jack shut off the engine. Neither made a move to exit the car. "I realized that with everything that happened today. He can't reach me as deeply. He can't hurt me as intensely as he once did. It's not as deep; it's not as wounding, it's not as painful. I'm finding my footing again and I'm feeling like me again too. And that feels great. Today was a test, a pinprick to see how much I would bleed and it wasn't as much as I expected. I'm moving on."

From Jennifer's words, Jack felt emboldened to reach out to her. He'd been wary of touching her ever since she saw the videotape thinking that the revisited memories were too fresh and too raw. He worried that she wouldn't want to be touched just like when they had arrived back home from Lawrence's country.

After several false starts, Jack finally found his voice. "I meant what I said to you before. I will stand by you through all of this—the questioning, the arrest, the trial if he's stupid enough to not plead it out. You are my main concern—my only concern really." Jack picked up her left hand and ran his thumb over the diamond in her engagement ring. "And that's the way it will always be for me for the rest of our lives. I've already vowed it. And I meant every word."

During the time of Jennifer's distance, Jack had refreshed his memory from a prep school assignment. He wanted to invoke the words of the Bard to her once more:

 _"Let me not to the marriage of true minds_

 _Admit impediments. Love is not love_

 _Which alters when it alteration fines_

 _Or bends with the remover to remove:_

 _O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,_

 _That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

 _It is the star to every wandering bark,_

 _Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken._

 _Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks_

 _Within his bending sickle's compass come;_

 _Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks_

 _But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

 _If this be error and upon me proved,_

 _I never writ, nor no man ever loved."_

After Jack finished reciting Shakespeare's sonnet, he shyly smiled. "I hope that borrowing the words of Shakespeare instead of offering up my own does not dilute the sentiment. That is what you are to me. You are my ever-fixed mark. Ask me in twenty-five years or fifty years, if you can still tolerate me, I promise you my love shall remain unshaken despite all of life's tempests that we have endured already and all of life's tempests that I know are to come. My love will not alter through the years. I will love you, just as I do now, though likely stronger, until the day I die."

Jennifer bit her lip. She wanted to cry, happy tears of profound release and relief, but she knew that Jack never allowed himself to cry and she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. So she bit her lip, like she had seen him do and then rushed into a kiss. She cupped his face with both of her hands and held him steady. She never wanted to let go. The kisses, the intimacy were getting easier for her. She allowed herself to enjoy the kiss instead of committing her mental power to timing the kiss before she could (or should) pull out of it.

They stayed like that, kissing in the car for a long time—like two teenagers out on a first date that had no where else to go for privacy. It felt safe, kissing in the car—private, but still in public, outside yet inside, all alone and yet completely observable. There was no chance of it escalating here. She enjoyed it immensely actually. She felt safe. She felt no pressure or no worries. (Not that Jack ever made her worry about their kisses escalating!).

It felt innocent, like a first date between teenagers when kissing was all that was ever assumed. Jennifer loved it; she felt overwhelmed, her mind was swimming. And Jack was an excellent kisser. She didn't know if he had practiced in prep school like she had in boarding school where she and a bunch of her tween friends rehearsed with pillows. Whether it was learned or innate, she enjoyed his skill and technique and the heady chemistry that always existed between them. His kisses were intoxicating, yet safe, and she loved feeling lost in it.

Jennifer needed a temporary respite to regain her breath, to keep her head from spinning, to reduce the crescendoing smoldering desire she was wanting for far, far more. She pulled back for a moment and placed her hand over her heart trying to slow it down.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" Jack asked. His voice was concerned—not husky. He wanted to know if she wanted it to end, not pushing for more.

"No," she answered in truth. She liked kissing him and wanted to continue here and in this car. "I like what we're doing…here."

Jack smiled, reached up to smooth her hair and took the moment to double check the parking break and make sure they hadn't accidentally pushed the stick shift into gear.

About two hours later, the outside cold finally overwhelmed the steamed up car. They decided to abandon the car and their no-pressure enjoyment and headed upstairs to the penthouse. Once inside, neither tried to initiate the pleasure of down in the car. They were finding their ways to enjoy each other within their limits.

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A few days later, Victor and Lawrence had their business meeting set. It was innocently suggested by Isabella to her father and Jack had surreptitiously provided her with the original videotape. Steve had safely secured several copies in case something went wrong.

After Isabella snuck the videotape into Lawrence's briefcase, she called Jack who contacted Steve. Steve had already pre-arranged the arrest from behind the scenes making sure that Roman was the lead officer on the arrest and the case. Everything was ready for their counterstrike.

When they brought Lawrence in for booking, Steve made sure he was there, but in the background, appearing unobtrusive. He wanted to make sure the videotape was there, properly catalogued, and went only to Roman or Abe.

Lawrence gave Steve a long stare. He had immediately grasped that there was more to this arrest than a long overdue need to hold him for the boat explosion. The evidence for that was flimsy, circumstantial at best. It would never hold up in court.

A uniformed office was cataloguing his personal effects and going through his papers. Lawrence wasn't worried. The deal with Victor was legal and sound. Lawrence knew from his background investigation that Steve hated Victor—an antipathy cemented by Victor kidnapping his pregnant wife a year earlier. Lawrence was standing there at the fingerprinting table as the uniformed officer soiled his well-manicured hands with the fingerprinting ink. He knew that he was safe and insulated from any prosecution. Then an officer pulled a videotape out of Lawrence's briefcase.

Lawrence glowered at Steve when he saw it. He had been informed about the break-in at his estate and his security team hadn't been able to determine yet if anything else had been stolen besides the videotapes of that day's security footage. Lawrence couldn't make out the writing on the spine of the tape, but suddenly he knew that tape was the ulterior motive behind this whole farce and drama. And in that moment he realized the content on that videotape. He knew it was from his bedroom on his wedding day. It could be nothing else. Lawrence kept his gaze leveled at Steve Johnson, daring him to act. The Johnsons would not out-maneuver him again.

Steve exhaled, finally, when he saw the tape. _Thank you, Isabella_. After the videotape was properly catalogued, Steve spoke up, "If you're done with the booking, then get Alamain down to holding." Steve didn't want to say one word about the videotape until Lawrence was gone. Steve had watched the mental gymnastics and Lawrence's mind working when the videotape made its appearance. Steve could even pinpoint the exact moment when realization came to Lawrence about the videotape and he grasped that he had been beaten again.

That was such a satisfying moment. He wished Jennifer—or Jack—could have been here and had seen Lawrence's face.

After Lawrence was escorted, in handcuffs, down to a holding cell, Steve petitioned one of the officers, "Take the videotape up to Captain Roman Brady. Tell him that he and Abe Carver should probably assess it soon-before Alamain's lawyer successfully gets a judge to release him."

The officer nodded. Steve didn't want to rush the guy, but he did want the guy to rush. "Go on now. Capt. Brady needs to evaluate that."

Steve followed up a few minutes later. He sat at a desk outside Roman's office. He couldn't hear anything, but he could see Roman and Abe barely through the slit in the door uncovered by the window shade. He sat there, staring at some reports and paperwork he needed to fill out, but he could not focus on what he was reading.

Then, through the door, it was muffled, but clearly audible; Steve heard screaming from the videotape. He broke his pen in half, hearing it. Shortly after, he heard nothing. Roman and Abe must have muted the tape or stopped it.

The door opened a few seconds later.. Abe was walking out and Roman called after him, "Let me know what you hear from the DA. Glynnis needs to get down here immed-." Roman stopped talking when he noticed Steve at the desk.

Everything came back to Roman in that moment—the motley crew of Steve, Jack, Jennifer, and Kayla the other night, the strange hypotheticals, and now Roman's recommended scenario was playing out right here. But Alamain had been arrested at Victor's house….which probably meant that Isabella was involved somehow too.

He wouldn't question any of them now. They obviously wanted to keep Roman in the dark and preserved in plausible deniability. As long as a conspiracy or planting evidence wasn't confirmed, then Roman was under no obligation to report it. Roman didn't like Steve playing fast and loose with police procedures and tampering with evidence, especially this early in his police career. But he shrugged that off. What he had seen on that tape was just too awful. Lawrence had tried to kill his brother and almost made his sister a widow. He didn't like vigilantism, but he definitely sympathized. He would never call Steve to task on this score. Roman knew that Lawrence belonged in prison.

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Jack and Jenifer had just finished eating dinner and were trying to keep their minds off of whatever was happening at the police station. Neither could get any work accomplished. Neither could make decent conversation. They hadn't heard from Steve so they knew that meant that the videotape and been found in Lawrence's possession and that Isabella had accomplished everything as planned. Both remained in a state of heightened alert and so when the doorbell finally rang, both immediately jumped.

"Play it cool," Jack reminded her. "Remember, you don't know a thing about the tape."

Jennifer nodded, glued to the couch, wary of the inevitable task before her of once more having to recount what Lawrence did. Hopefully, Lawrence would take a plea deal and this would be the last time.

"I'll get the door," Jack said as he was walking towards it. He opened it up and saw Abe and a female police officer that he had seen a few times at various crime scenes when he was getting a story.

Of course, Abe. Jack would always remember Abe as the person who arrested him for Kayla's rape. It made the situation now for him more awkward, but this wasn't about him, he repeated to himself again.

"Abe Carver. What's this about?"

Abe felt the discomfiture of the situation too. "We'd like to speak with Jennifer and understand that this is usually the best place to find her. Would that be correct?"

Jack swung the door open wider so they could see her, "Yes, Miss Horton is here. What's this about?"

"We'd like to ask her a few questions. Can we come in?"

By this time Jennifer had risen from the sofa and greeted them at the door.

"Of course, please," she replied with fake brightness.

"Third time I'm asking, what is this about?" Jack asked. "I don't like the idea of you questioning her without an attorney."

Abe pre-empted that objection, "It's not that kind of questioning. Jennifer, Officer Martinez and I are here to ask you if you would like to file charges based on some information that has recently come to light…about Lawrence Alamain."

This was going to be hard for Jennifer—the playacting that she didn't already know about the tape and the questions themselves. She turned to Jack and grabbed his hand. She led Jack over to the sofa and sat down. "Go ahead."

Abe felt concerned; he remembered arresting Jack as well as Jack did. "Perhaps you might prefer to discuss this in private?"

Jennifer shook her head, "Jack knows everything about Lawrence. If you're asking about Lawrence, then I need him here beside me."

Jack felt Jennifer squeeze his hand tight. She needed him. That still felt strange, foreign. He still didn't see himself in that role, as that man. Being such a heroic man was Jennifer's projection of him and Jo's projection of him, but that wasn't really him. And yet here he was and this was real. He had just recently started to accept that maybe they were right about him after all.

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Glynnis Turner was standing in Roman's office beside him and had just switched off the videotape. By necessity, she needed to watch the whole thing. She needed to know the evidence before proceeding.

Glynnis still felt sick—the things she had to do for her job… "You just got this?"

Roman nodded, "Lawrence was arrested today on unrelated charges and he had it on him."

"No irregularities with the arrest? Nothing to get this tape tossed out on a technicality?"

Roman shook his head, "No, it was a clean arrest. By the book."

"Is Jennifer Horton willing to file charges? The State doesn't need her cooperation in light of such overwhelming evidence, but it would be helpful considering the jurisdictional issues that Alamain's lawyers can raise."

"Abe and Officer Martinez left to go see her." Roman remembered well the hypotheticals asked at Steve's and Kayla's house. "I suspect she will be willing to file charges and be fully cooperative."

Glynnis exhaled; she normally hated prosecuting rape cases. They were notoriously difficult to prove and juries always found a thousand ways to give reasonable doubt and allow a guilty defendant to escape justice. This sickening evidence would make it nearly impossible for Lawrence to weasel out of a guilty verdict now. "Well, Lawrence won't get out on bail anymore. Not with this."

The phone rang; it was Abe confirming that Jennifer would press charges.

Glynnis was relieved for that. "Lawrence's attorney is outside. I'll go give him the news." Glynnis pointed at the VCR. "Get that videotape fully documented—check for fingerprints, signs of tampering, and make a copy. I'll get a warrant for the new charges and to search his home for additional evidence."

Glynnis walked into the interview room where Lawrence waited with his lawyer. She knew the lawyer was going to demand his client's release, even without a bail hearing. She recognized the lawyer when she walked into the room and introductions weren't necessary.

The man's suit was probably worth more than she earned in a month. "Glynnis, thank goodness. Tell me that I can get my client out of here now. These trumped up charges are genuinely bordering on harassment so unless the City of Salem wants-."

She put up her hand to silence him. "Some new evidence has come to light and some new charges are being filed. Your client isn't going anywhere, I suspect, for a long time."

Lawrence had been sitting quietly, carefully gauging the situation. He had been apprehensive ever since he saw that videotape appear among his things. He knew that Jack and Steve had somehow planted it on him. He watched the district attorney when she came in the room, watched her expression, watched her reaction to him. He knew as soon as she stared at him for a brief second upon her arrival and then how she had quickly averted her eyes that this was about Jennifer.

"What is this now? What new charges are the good people of Salem cooking up in their continuing vendetta against my client?"

Glynnis addressed the attorney, not looking at Lawrence, "Your client is being charged with the rape of Jennifer Horton."

"You mean his wife?" the lawyer asked incredulous.

Lawrence stood up, seemingly irate. "That is a filthy disparagement cooked up by her boyfriend because he can't handle—."

"Lawrence," his attorney's warning tone silenced him.

Glynnis didn't acknowledge Lawrence, but merely addressed the attorney, "We're going to take your client down to a holding cell while you and I can discuss the damning new evidence."

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Early the next morning, Jennifer and Jack were sitting at the breakfast table in the penthouse with their coffee and their morning papers—the Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, and the Salem Chronicle—one that Jack read only while figuratively holding his nose.

Abe's questions last night had been difficult for both Jack and her and Jennifer needed to follow-up with DA Turner, but she hoped the worst part was over. They didn't discuss it after Abe and Officer Martinez left, but she knew that was grateful that she wanted him to stay beside her during the questioning. Throughout the entire ordeal with the police, she never let go of his hand.

Jennifer savored the easy domesticity they had fallen into—sharing their meals, sharing their mornings. It was comforting and it reminded her of watching her grandparents as they started their mornings and hoped that they could be like this for always. She knew that many nights that Jack would get out of bed and either go out to the balcony or come to the living room to work for a few hours. She suspected, though he never confirmed it, that the closeness of them sharing a bed night after night, while simultaneously avoiding physical intimacy was not easy for him. She didn't want to stay like this forever and she knew he was patient. He loved her and could wait for a long time. She knew it was just the combination of sharing a bed and creating the availability and the constant accessibility that made the situation more difficult. She knew he didn't want to sleep apart; Jack would hate that worse. This was just their current state and they would get through it and they could restore that last part of their lives together.

Instinctually, she reached over and grabbed Jack's hand, "I love my life with you."

Jack was in the middle of a complex trade agreement article that required his entire focus, but that focus was easily sacrificed and surrendered when Jennifer was looking at him with such love in her beautiful blue eyes.

Jack brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, stopping to kiss each of her fingertips. Jack loved her back, but he still found it difficult to say 'Love you' as often or as freely as she did. "Me too," was what Jack managed to say in response.

The door bell rang at that moment. Jack gave her hand another quick kiss and then he went to the door.

It was Steve.

Steve held his arms out, glee and success plain on his face. "You did it," he said to Jennifer who had followed Jack out to the living room. "Lawrence is in jail and he was denied bail."

Thrilled, Jennifer threw her arms around Steve's neck and jumped into his arms. "That's great! Thank you!"

Steve set her down quickly, "Don't thank me. I just helped the two of you."

Jack wanted details, "So the bail hearing was this morning?"

"Yeah, considering the evidence against Lawrence, the severity of the crimes, his money, and his foreign connections, the judge decided he was a considerable flight risk and denied bail. He'll either plead guilty or be found guilty so he will likely remain in jail for a long time to come."

Jack put his arm around Jennifer and kissed her hair, "You did it. I think the worst is behind you now."

Steve interrupted the moment, "I can't stay long, but I wanted you to hear the good news and I wanted to do it in person. We'll be in touch." Steve wanted to say something to Jack though before he left, "Do you remember what you were saying in the car while we were on the stakeout?"

Jack's eyes darkened, but he nodded. He knew Steve meant when Jack confessed that his past demons were awakening and closing in around him.

Steve gave his brother a look of compassion and understanding. "We got him. And we got him the right way. You did good here."

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Later that day, Roman was passing through the long corridor of the holding cells when Lawrence, looking slightly disheveled and unshaven, called his attention. "What is with your family, Captain Brady?"

Roman stopped and turned, "Excuse me?"

Lawrence started coolly and slowly, "Your brother tries to ruin my life, your brother-in-law tries to ruin my life."

Roman was unimpressed with Lawrence blaming other people, "I think you're ruining your own life."

"I know Steve Johnson engineered that videotape. You might warn him and his brother about their quest for revenge against me. Confucius said once that before you embark on a journey for revenge, dig two graves. Save one for yourself."

Roman's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat?"

Lawrence smiled, "No. Of course not. It's ancient wisdom. You might counsel your sister's husband to remember it."

Roman made no attempt to hide his disgust, "The only grave I know about is that, with any justice, you will be buried at Statesville prison for a long time to come. And if you followed ancient wisdom half as well as you try to dole it out, then you wouldn't be in jail now."

"Remember to give your brother-in-law that message," Lawrence called to him as Roman walked on.

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Several days after Lawrence's arrest was Stephanie's first birthday party. Kayla, Jennifer, and the grandmas had put in quite a bit of time planning it (too much time in Jack's opinion considering Stephanie would never remember the thing). Jack was glad to have a family and glad to be invited, but little kid parties were not something that he ever anticipated that he would enjoy. He hadn't changed _that_ much. But still, there was a long time that he wasn't invited to any parties unless it was due to the Deveraux name or bank account and to be included was a privilege that Jack would not soon take for granted.

Nevertheless, Jack was feeling uncomfortable in the midst of all the pink balloons and little kid folderol in the dining room. He migrated into the living room and away from all the other guests. He glanced over at the table in the foyer with the birthday presents for the birthday girl. One of the birthday presents called his attention. It had a purple flower design; the purple flower was unusual and Jack remembered it well from Lawrence's villa. He remembered Leopold saying that flower was indigenous to his country and had been a favorite of Lawrence's mother.

It was an unusual choice for a little girl's first birthday party. He got closer to inspect the gift; there was no card included and it was sealed with the wide mailing tape, not the thin Scotch-brand tape that most people used to seal presents.

It was strange; it piqued his worry. Kayla came through at that moment and Jack called her attention. "Hi, Kayla."

She was in a rush, "Jack, I'm just gonna grab some matches. We're about to do the cake."

"Do you know who brought this present?" Jack asked pointing at the box that had attracted his interest.

She glanced at it, "No. If you want a kid's toy, then I'll tell your mama to get you a GI Joe or Star Wars action figure for your birthday."

Jack gave a half-smile, "Ha ha. Did anyone send a present that's not here at the party?"

She had grabbed the matches and was heading back to the party. "What? Your sister and mine did," she answered, confused but distracted. "Join in on the fun-if you want."

Jack stayed focused on that present. He was naturally suspicious, but not superstitious. He didn't believe in sixth senses or weird feelings of foreboding, but it just still seemed strange. He checked the cards for the other presents: they all had cards of people either at the party or, like Kayla had said, marked with Kim's name or from Justin and Adrienne.

He looked toward the dining room and could hear everyone, including his brother's rich tenor, singing 'Happy Birthday." When the song was over, Jack went into the dining room as Jo was cutting the cake and Kayla was refereeing Stephanie dunking her face into her slice. "Umm, who brought the present with the purple flowers wrapping paper?" Jack asked.

Some people looked up, but no one claimed responsibility. Jennifer was busy socializing with Carly and just shrugged.

Jack was decided now; he'd deal with this box and its contents and not bother Steve with it. Steve had helped him so much with Alamain already. Jack returned to the foyer and propped open the front door. This present came from Lawrence—he was sure of it. It could not be good and most likely it was dangerous and needed to be out of the house. He remembered the boat explosion and it was only pure luck and chance that a tragedy hadn't occurred. He picked up the present and held it at arm's length. It was very heavy for a kid's gift; at least ten pounds. If he was wrong, then he'd just buy another of whatever was inside. He had enough money and was cheap enough in general that it would be no big deal. There were some advantages to his reputation of being eccentric and somewhat of a jerk (seriously, taking a little girl's birthday present?) that would just make most people shrug it off.

He walked it down to the creek at the edge of the driveway. The water wasn't deep, only about three feet down, but he could toss the box in there and it would submerge. If the gift was dangerous like he feared, then the water would either disable it or hopefully absorb most of the impact. Jack looked around. There wasn't anywhere he could really take cover. Not if he was going to be close enough to the creek to make sure he tossed it in.

Queasiness overwhelmed Jack; he could smell his cold sweat. He could only focus on the box and on his stomach-jumping like an airplane in turbulence. The dreadful memory of the earthquakes and successions of explosions at Lawrence's villa brought him back to his task. This box would not kill him. Somehow Jack would be fine. Regardless of what happened, he would still wake up the next morning.

There would be a tomorrow.

Jack measured the distance, gripped the box like it was a basketball and pitched it forward. He had judged well and it landed in the creek. Like his worst fears had predicted, the box exploded on impact and sent the pebbles and dirt from the creek bottom flying in all directions. Jack hated being right about this sort of thing, but he hated being injured and dirty far more. He flung himself to the earth and covered his head with his hands.


	20. Chapter 20

The explosion sent figurative shock waves through Kayla's and Steve's dining room. The distance and the water had kept them from feeling literal ones. Steve was the first to dash out. Kayla followed behind, leaving Stephanie in the care of her mother. Instinctually, Jennifer scanned the room for Jack and, not seeing him, ran out after Steve and Kayla.

Adrenalin, love, and her track career in high school made Jennifer a faster runner than Steve or Kayla and she reached Jack a splintering second before Steve. He laid unconscious just beyond the debris field and his right hand appeared injured. Wreckage and rubble were strewn everywhere within about a 15 feet radius. Small trees were blown over and huge amounts of earth had upended.

One glance at Jack and Jennifer's world fell apart. Jack wasn't moving, she noticed the blood but couldn't tell where it came from. Grief coursed from her head to her stomach; her heart quickly feeling rancid. She dropped down to the dirt. She tried to avoid the onslaught of images—his eyes closed, his bloodied hand, his pants were torn and she could see a bit of the boxers she had given him as present.

Jennifer stayed there, unmoving. She could not move forward, could not move back. She could only kneel there, face buried in her hands, hoping for an impossible altered reality. She couldn't breathe. It seemed like all her oxygen had been sucked away. All fight left her.

"What happened?" Jennifer begged to know through her tears. "Oh, Jack, Jack! Talk to me!"

Steve felt for his pulse and looked him over to check for injuries besides his badly cut and broken hand. Soon after, Carly reached them and pulled Jennifer away from Jack and set about examining him in full doctor mode.

Kayla noticed the shreds of obliterated paper and she let out a terrified scream as she fell to her knees in horror and realization. She saw the truth here. Hideous reality penetrated her in an instant and her mind struggled to escape the sinking vortex. Anger welled up next—she knew this was no accident and that there could only be one monster responsible.

Steve didn't want to leave his brother, but Kayla wasn't normally one for hysterics. He was instantly at her side. "What's wrong?" Steve asked, desperate to know more of what was happening.

Kayla grabbed at a few bits of the wrapping paper fragments and thrust them at Steve. "This was from one of Stephanie's presents! Jack asked me about it, but I was too distracted." Kayla pointed at the creek, at the center of the debris field and beginning to hyperventilate, "Stephanie would have opened it if Jack…. How did he know? Why didn't he ask for help?"

"Lawrence?" Steve asked, just starting to process the wicked chain of events that led to this mess. His seething anger grew and he grabbed Roman, anxious to put him on high alert as well.

The ambulance sirens could be heard now and were steadily, quickly getting louder. The paramedics arrived and Carly quickly communicated Jack's vitals so they could avoid that step before transferring him to the back board and then onto the guerney. Carly and Jennifer both climbed into the back of the ambulance with him.

Jennifer had been focused only on Jack since the moment she'd heard the explosion. She didn't know about Kayla's and Steve's suspicions yet. She didn't know that Jack had just saved all of their lives.

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Jennifer spent the next several hours pacing the floor of the hospital outside the operating room or slumped in a chair when she'd gotten tired of pacing. The doctors had taken Jack immediately into the operating room for exploratory surgery on his head injury and to remedy what they could with his right hand. Jo had one of Jack's handkerchiefs—it had fallen on the ground at Steve's and Kayla's house during all the commotion. She interminably twisted it around her fingers.

Kayla stayed also for Steve's sake…and for her own, she reluctantly admitted. Lawrence (it had to have been Lawrence!) sent a bomb to their home disguised as a little girl's birthday present! It was beyond monstrous, beyond inhuman. Three words kept repeating over and over in her mind—she couldn't get past the third word of the sentence: _If Jack hadn't_ …

Steve and Roman were at the police station, looking over Lawrence's jail visitors, trying to find anything to definitively tie him to the bomb. Abe was at Steve's house, assisting the forensics team.

From Carly's initial triage, she had communicated with everyone that she didn't think Jack's injuries were life-threatening, but they wouldn't know more until he had a proper examination.

Time stretched out, twisted and elongated. Jennifer could no longer stay bottled up within her own thoughts and worries and went to sit down next to Kayla, "What do you know?" she whispered.

Kayla inwardly groaned; she didn't want to alarm Jennifer. However, if it were her and that was Steve, then she would want to know everything. "Jack asked me about one of Stephanie's presents. I was trying to take care of everything so I didn't really pay attention."

"Yeah, he came into the dining room after we sang 'Happy Birthday' and he asked everyone…" Jennifer strained to remember.

"He asked who had brought the present with purple flower wrapping paper," Kayla completed the sentence. She then held up one of the fragments she scavenged from the scene; she only took one tiny bit and left the rest for the cops.

Jennifer gasped; she saw the tiny slip with a purple flower. "That wrapping paper contained what…what exploded?"

"One of Stephanie's birthday presents," Kayla said coldly, icily. Her tone was so cold and defiant that she had tears in her eyes. "If Jack hadn't…"

Jennifer brought her hands to her mouth in horror. "Oh my God!" she stuttered out, starting to feel like she was going to throw up.

"Jennifer maybe you can help. Jack isn't awake so no one knows why he targeted this present. Maybe it was this wrapping paper that drew his attention. Can you give me anything to help Steve and Roman?" Kayla held the paper up and dropped it into Jennifer's waiting palm.

Jennifer squinted as she studied it. "It looks familiar."

"Lawrence's villa maybe or the embassy in New York City? I think it was him and so does Steve."

Jennifer struggled, but her mind was too clouded over from the worry. "You think it was Lawrence?"

"Don't you? We already have some circumstantial evidence connecting Lawrence to the boat explosion. He's definitely capable to target a…one-year-old little girl and everyone standing close by as she opened her presents—including Bo, Carly, Frankie, you, Jack, Steve, and me. He could have wiped out all his enemies in Salem with one explosion. What a great gift to give himself."

Jennifer couldn't contemplate that almost reality. It was too horrific. No one could be that cruel and heartless. She turned her attention back to the little flower pictured on the wrapping paper.

She had certainly seen Lawrence cruel, but she couldn't imagine him being this diabolical. During the whole time Jack was in surgery, all Jennifer could do was sit and worry. Worry and wait. Wait and blame. Blame herself. She brought Lawrence into their life. Stupidly, she had thought she could masquerade as Katerina and then pull out of the charade and that Lawrence would just be _nice_. She had brought him into their lives, into their home. She should have recognized him as the snake that he was and never have allowed him to sink his venomous fangs into her or anyone that she loved. If Jack didn't make it or if Jack was permanently injured, she would never forgive herself. Never.

And so she paced. Paced and sat. Sat and waited. Worried and sat. The clock inched forward. She was desperate for news, but if the news was bad, she never wanted it to come. And would prefer instead to stay in this moment, frozen in time.

Finally Carly emerged and everyone jumped to attention, anxious to hear the prognosis. "Jack should be fine."

Jennifer's whole body relaxed in profound relief. Hours and hours of unbearable tension had taken their toll.

Jo jumped up, needing more details, "He was in surgery a long time. Why for?"

"We wanted to be sure that there was nothing wrong with him seriously. There was no cranial bleeding or bruising, which was our most important consideration and concern. It appears he has only a minor concussion. He will likely have some temporary hearing loss due to his proximity to the blast. It will probably last a few days and he may have some limited, but permanent hearing loss particularly in his right ear. We won't know that until he wakes up and we're able to assess him better.

Jennifer was still concerned. This wouldn't be over for her until Jack walked out of the hospital. "When will he wake up?"

"It should be soon. But there's no way to tell for sure. The one other major issue is his right hand. That required some extensive reconstruction and he may need some additional surgeries later on to recover full functionality, but I understand that is not his dominant hand so the long-term effects should not be too significant. All things considered, he is very lucky."

"We all are," Jennifer replied. "I couldn't imagine losing him. Not like this."

Kayla came over to Jo and put her arms around her, "That must be such a relief to you…to all of us, really. I'm going to call Steve and update him. I know he'll want to know."

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Vague forms appeared as Jack's mind emerged from darkness. Jack winced; there was just too much pain coming from too many body parts. Jack blinked several times to clear his vision and felt harsh pain in his hand and head. He wanted to battle the pain and identify that familiar metallic taste on his lips. But mostly he wanted to see…and hear.

Jack had glimpses of consciousness through the heavy black curtain covering his mind, first noticing the piercing throbbing where he had been hit—in his right hand as he tried to protect his head. After several attempts of focused movement, he began to discern his surroundings. His head pounded. In the wan glow of early morning, Jack struggled awake, trying to shake off the heavy veil of sleep. Hunger clawed at him, swiping away all other capacities.

Until…until his left hand swept forward along the bed and felt silky lustrous strands of hair. He smiled to himself. He angled himself slightly so he could slightly see her with his peripheral vision. She was sitting next to the bed and had laid her head down on the bed beside him and was sleeping. He didn't want to wake her, but he wanted to feel more of her than a few strands around his fingers. His left hand felt incredibly heavy; it required all his strength to lift it. But he did; he pushed against gravity and was able to put his hand on top of her head.

Almost immediately she woke up. An incredible smile brightens her face. "Jack!" she said, but Jack couldn't hear her. She continued talking, but he tried signaling her that he couldn't hear.

Jack's heart swelled with love for her. Her eyes were puffy from crying and she looked like she hadn't slept well in days. He didn't know the full extent of his injuries, but he could see her and she was here so nothing could possibly be too bad as long as he had her.

Realization dawned on her face; she remembered what Carly had said—that the explosion likely would cause temporary hearing loss. That was okay; she didn't need words. She reached up and kissed both of his cheeks and kissed his lips.

He smiled at her—his 'Jennifer smile'—and reached up to caress her cheek. He glanced down at the bed; he didn't want her going anywhere. Jack slowly scooted over to the far side of the bed and lifted the covers.

She recognized what he wanted and a shy smile came over her face. She didn't want to hurt him, but knew that he couldn't hear her objections. She eagerly nodded; being the granddaughter of Tom and Alice Horton had to count for something.

Because of his injuries, he couldn't hold up the covers long. Jennifer took them from him and gingerly climbed in. She was very careful about doing so and made herself as small as possible to not inadvertently hurt him. But she loved this closeness. She had been frantic with worry and needed this closeness more than she would have ever admitted. She had an overwhelming need for him—like oxygen.

A few hours later, Steve returned back to Jack's hospital room. He spotted Jennifer sleeping peacefully in the bed next to his brother and figured that he had woken briefly and invited her into his bed. At times like this, seeing Jack and Jennifer curled up with each other, knowing what Jack had done, what he had risked for all their sakes, he was astounded again by the transformation of his little brother. He was on a path of genuine enlightenment, the path of a true human being and it was marvelous and quite fulfilling to witness.

Steve had been quiet, but had made enough noise which brought Jack around. He opened his eyes and saw his brother, then looked down to check on Jennifer still sleeping soundly.

Steve tried to straighten the bed covers to make Jack more comfortable, "You've been out for two days. She never left the hospital."

Jack shook his head and pointed to his left ear. He was feeling stronger now and able to move a little better.

Steve repeated his words in sign language. " _Jo neither_ ," he added. " _Kayla too, mostly_."

Jack nodded, "Can you prove it was Lawrence?"

" _Not yet,"_ Steve signed. _"How did you know? No one's been able to figure that out_."

"The wrapping paper. It's a flower from Lawrence's country and a favorite of his mother's. Leopold told me."

" _Why didn't you ask me for help?"_

"You helped me enough already. Besides, I wasn't sure. Big part of me thought I was just chucking a toy train in the creek. But if it was from Lawrence, I knew I just had to get it out of your house."

Tears were in Steve's eyes now. " _Jack, thank you just doesn't seem adequate. You saved…you saved all of us. The magnitude of what Lawrence wanted to do; the magnitude of what you prevented. There are just no words_."

Steve put his palm on the backside of Jack's head, then leaned down so their foreheads touched. When Steve pulled back, Jack reached up with his uninjured hand and wiped away the moisture from underneath Steve's right eye. It was an incredibly intimate exchange between two men—especially these two men.

Steve pulled back. Jack glanced at Jennifer; she was still sleeping beside him.

Steve started to sign again, " _It's just incomprehensible. My daughter. My wife. Our mother. Jennifer. Everyone we care about_."

Jack nodded, "Something needs to be done. We can't be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives." Jack brought his left hand up to his face, nervously moving it around as he debated his options. He was trying to decide his path forward. "I learned something in Europe. Something that can help. I hoped to never have to use it, but it's gone too far now."

Steve's eyes perked up. " _I remember you mentioning something you learned in Europe. So, what is it?"_

Jack shook his head. "No, _I_ need to be the one to use this information." Jack's words came out slowly and carefully. " _I'll_ need to speak with him myself—when I'm out."

Steve couldn't accept that; he was getting pissed. " _Uh-uh. We can't wait for that. What do you know? Don't hold out on me._ "

Jack shook his head. "I've got to do this my way. Just trust me. Please."

"Dammit Jack!" Steve said louder than he intended.

Although he couldn't hear, Jack looked over at Jennifer to see if that woke her up.

Steve threw up his hands and started pacing again. " _Look, I'm sorry, man. I'm just…scared._ " Steve's voice started to break and his hands had difficulty making the signing motions. " _That's my little sweetness_ ," he choked out. " _That would've been…everyone…everything._ "

After a few tense moments, Steve restored the police officer façade. He was signing very slowly now. " _Did Lawrence know that you would recognize this flower on the wrapping paper and figure it out? Was this a very dangerous warning or did he really intend…_ "

Jack shook his head; there was no reason to think it had been meant as a warning, "Lawrence really had no way of knowing that I had that conversation with Leopold. We were out in the garden, just the two of us. It was just a throwaway comment. I probably wouldn't have remembered at all except that Leopold had mentioned Lawrence's mother and I was curious to hear more about her. I don't think Lawrence could have known that I'd recognize it. I'm not sure why he used it."

Steve glanced at the door, " _Jack, I need to get back to the police station and follow up on what you told me. You know I—I feel_ —."

Jack could see what Steve was going to say. Emotions and feelings still made Jack uncomfortable. He still felt inclined to minimize them and deflect them whenever possible. Jack interrupted him, "We'll talk later. Let me know if you find anything concrete to connect Lawrence, but I suspect you won't. He won't ever be so careless like he was with the videotape again."

Steve understood Jack changing the subject; he was like that too. " _Thank you_ ," he signed anyway. " _Anything you need…"_

Jack was sleeping soundly later on when Jennifer woke up later. She loved the security of sleeping beside him, knowing that he would be okay. She wanted to feel him close, feel his heart beat in addition to hearing the comforting confirmation of the heart rate monitor.

She lightly traced her index finger across his face. He was warm. She wanted to memorize his features. She didn't just find him handsome, she adored every characteristic because each was evidence of what made Jack uniquely him. Jennifer whispered to him, though she knew he couldn't hear her even if he was awake, "I love you Jack. I love you so very much. You're my hero."

She put her head back down on his chest and fell once more into a peaceful sleep.

A while later, they both managed to be awake at the same time. Jennifer awoke and saw Jack propped up a little on his pillows staring at her. Jennifer started to slide out of the bed to make more room for him—she figured it had to be uncomfortable for him sharing the twin size bed with someone else.

He stopped her from leaving; he wanted her close by. Even sitting by his bed would be too far away. Jennifer understood and gave him dozens of soft kisses on his face. She then gingerly picked up his left hand and held it palm facing up. D-O Y-O-U N-E-E-D A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G-? She spelled out in his palm with her forefinger.

"Just you," he answered.

A-N-Y P-A-I-N?

Jack hedged on that one. He did have pain in his head and right hand, but it was far less than when he had first woken up and found her sitting beside the bed and had invited her to climb in. "It's manageable."

I L-O-V-E Y-O-U. I-F A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G H-A-P-P-E-N-E-D T-O Y-O-U, I J-U-S-T C-O-U-L-D-N'T G-O O-N.

Jack smiled at her; he loved the words, but he still felt shy and conspicuous. He dreaded what his mom would say. Jo would probably cry too.

Y-O-U S-A-V-E-D E-V-E-R-Y-O-N-E. Y-O-U A-R-E A H-E-R-

Jack snatched back his hand. He wouldn't let her finish that word.

Jennifer wanted to insist on his heroism, on his bravery, on his courage. But he didn't want to and with his hearing gone for the moment, it was too complex a subject to debate right now. Reluctantly, she let it go. She took his hand once more and spelled out.

F-I-N-E. T-H-E-N L-E-T M-E J-U-S-T L-O-V-E O-N Y-O-U.

"Sure," Jack replied. "That you can do anytime."

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Jack woke up from a medicine-induced sleep and saw that Kayla had replaced Jennifer at his bedside. Kayla had a concerned, but sweet smile and Jack instinctually smiled back. Kayla's eyes moved to his hospital overbed table; Jack followed her gaze and saw that she was offering a Luke Skywalker action figure—like the one she had teased him about at Stephanie's birthday party before everything had gone horribly wrong.

Jack felt warmth; genuine unguarded warmth from her. It reminded him of when Steve was in the hospital last October after the boat explosion and fighting for his life. All barriers had broken down between them during those dark, worrisome days. They had gone for walks together; she had fallen willingly into his arms for much-needed hugs and comfort. Despite the horrendous circumstances, it had been gratifying to Jack that there was a need and that there was role for him with Kayla.

Those tense, awful days in October were a time out of time; they were disconnected from reality, the past and future, and the goings-on in everyone else's life. All that mattered was that one hospital room and the husband and brother they each loved. When Steve had thankfully recovered and the crisis had past, Jack and Kayla had an unspoken agreement to retreat back to their own lives and the closeness was over. It seemed that the hospital had brought it about once more.

Jack realized how much of their history had played out in this hospital. It started when he was sick with Hodgkins and she had cared for him. Then, unknown to both of them, Steve was pushing them at each other. Basically, their entire courtship played out with him weak and emaciated in a hospital bed. Then, in the aftermath of the rape, he had fallen off the roof and Steve had agreed to give him a kidney. Stupidly, he had asked her while still in the hospital for another chance with her. She had made him realize how much he had hurt her.

He spent the next several months, feeding on hurt and anger until Kayla was hurt by Harper and lost her hearing. He secretly visited her as she laid in her hospital bed and he was finally able to let go of his anger and stopped treating her so nastily and bitterly. Yes, many of their seminal conversations had played out around hospital beds. They had served as sign posts or milestones during their long complicated relationship. The crises of injury or illness served to amplify their emotions or precipitate their conversations.

"Is that for me?" Jack asked in a playful mood. He still didn't have his hearing so he said that a little too loud. Kayla signed that he was shouting and he repeated in a lower voice, "Is that for me?"

Kayla nodded.

Jack picked up the little figure and ran it through his palms "I had a dream recently where I was this character—Jack Skywalker—and you were Princess Kayla—so my sister, I guess, just like in life. Harper was Darth Vader, the father trying to pull me back to the dark side." Jack gave an ironic smile and Kayla placed her hands over Jack's. Jack stared at her hands on his for a long moment. "I haven't mentioned that dream to anyone else. Jennifer's going through her own stuff right now…"

Kayla lifted her hands and started to sign, " _Jack I need to thank you—."_

Jack took hold of one of her hands and shook his head. "No, you don't."

Kayla pulled her hand out of his grasp and gave him a determined, but kind smile. _"I must. This isn't the first time that you've come between me and disaster. Do you remember long ago, when Mike Horton's research lab was bombed, before we were married, before you got sick."_

Jack nodded, but added, "You're going a little too fast. It's hard to keep up. My sign language lessons were a long time ago."

Kayla slowed down her signing motions, " _Steve and I were buried underneath the rubble for two days. You found us. You saved us. Then you found Marina's key so Steve was able to free me from Victor Kiriakis. You stopped your father on my wedding day to Steve; he could have killed both Steve and me. And at Steph…_ "

Jack interrupted her, "Don't forget that I'm a walking disaster too. I brought you into my father's house where Harper was poisoning you. You almost died from that. He attacked you in that fire and you lost your hearing and I—I hurt you…."

Kayla put her finger up to Jack's lips; he was immediately silenced.

Kayla lifted up her hands to start signing, but the words and gestures came slowly. _"Life doesn't work like a balancing scale. If you put a lot of good deeds on one side of the scale; it doesn't cancel out or negate the bad things on the other side of the scale. The bad things can never be canceled out. However, they don't have to carry the same significance or the same weight. I forgave you a long time ago as I'm sure you did read that letter to the editor that I put in the Chronicle last fall. I haven't forgotten though and I don't think you will ever forget either._

Kayla paused, what she intended to sign next would be difficult. She was glad she was signing it, not speaking it. _"But, I'm glad you are in my life. I want you in my life—and not just as Steve's brother. When all is said and done, my life is better for having known you and I do…deeply care for you."_

Kayla had debated, gone back and forth, about whether she should say 'and I do…consider you like a brother' or what she actually did say. Ultimately, she decided it would be more honest and more personal by not injecting Steve into her feelings for Jack and keeping it independent from her marriage. Besides, there really wasn't and there probably never would be an easy description, an easy label for what Jack and Kayla were to each other.

Jack was overwhelmed, both by her words and by his response to it. He bit his lip, his well-worn custom to ward off tears. He lifted her right hand; he felt that it would be acceptable. She offered no resistance and didn't pull her hand back. He closed his eyes and kissed the knuckles on her hand—as though he were a white knight at last.

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The next day, Jack was starting to hear again in his left ear. It was difficult to hear, but at least people didn't need to write or use sign language with him anymore if they spoke directly into his left ear. He knew it would probably be a while before he had his hearing back in his right ear or got to use his right hand again. He and his brother made quite a pair. Jack had one kidney, one workable ear, and one usable hand. His brother had one kidney and one eye.

Jennifer was in Jack's hospital room when a nurse came in, "Sorry, honey, but would you mind stepping out for a bit?"

Jennifer was instantly concerned. "Why for?"

"Well, it's time for Mr. Deveraux to get cleaned up a little."

"Do you mean like a sponge bath?" Jennifer asked.

Jack smiled. Unfortunately, he'd been in these hospitals enough to know the drill. He knew what was coming.

"Actually yes," the nurse replied. "A sponge bath and a shave."

Jennifer shook her head. "Uh, uh. I'll do it myself."

The nurse stood firm. "Sorry ma'am. We've bent the rules enough already."

Jennifer put her hand on the end of the bed blocking the nurse's way. "If anyone is going to bathe my fiancée, it is going to be me. I used to be a candy striper. I know how." Jennifer fibbed a little bit with the last part, but she was determined.

When Jennifer said 'candy striper' Jack's heart rate noticeably increased. The machine he was hooked up to started beep-beeping much faster. Jennifer looked over at it, caught his eye, and grinned mischievously.

She was flirting shamelessly knowing that he was laid up and couldn't do anything beyond just enjoying that she was going to cater to his hygienic needs.

Jennifer wasn't above begging. She really wanted to do this. "Please?"

The nurse looked from her to her patient and then back to Jennifer. "Very well, but I will be monitoring my patient's heart rate at the nurse's station. It needs to stay within a normal range—that means below 110 bpm."

"Great!" Jennifer exclaimed and then leaned over Jack's bed and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Back in five."

Ten minutes later, Jennifer was back and wearing her overcoat. Indulgently, the nurse had brought in the sponge bath supplies. Jennifer had a wicked grin. She shrugged out of the coat and revealed she had changed into a candy striper outfit. She took a little hat from her pocket and placed it on her hair.

"Mr. Deveraux, I presume?" Jennifer asked, slowly and seductively.

"Remember the nurse said I had to keep my heart rate below 110 or she'd come back in here like some school hall monitor. Just seeing you like that and I'm almost there."

"Well, we'll have to make sure that she doesn't come back in." Jennifer, keeping her eyes on him, reached behind her and locked the door.

Jack was still bed bound and consigned to wearing the standard hospital gown that tied in the back and on the side. Jennifer started by reaching for the tie at the back of his neck. She made sure that while she was doing this that she leaned over in front of him so he could easily see her cleavage down the front of her candy striper outfit. He did see. She was wearing a red bra the same color as the red pin-striping of her costume. When their eyes met afterwards, she gave him a wink so he'd know those were her exact intentions.

She loosened the gown's tie at the back of his neck and pulled it free, exposing his well muscled chest. He still had some lacerations and cuts from the explosion, but they looked superficial and the more serious ones were bandaged up and she would be careful to avoid those.

She reached for the bowl with warm water and started caressing his chest with the damp sponge.

"Is the water too cold for you, Mr. Deveraux?" she whispered in his left ear—the one with less hearing loss. Her breath was hot and tingling on his ear lobe and his neck.

"It's hot. I mean, it's warm," he corrected himself.

This wasn't all fun and games. She knew she did need to bathe him—more or less—and set out to do it properly. But she wanted it to be slow and enjoyable for him. She was enjoying it too. She liked having free reign over his body.

Whenever the heart monitor started beeping too fast, she clicked her tongue like he was misbehaving and slowed down or transitioned her attention to an elbow or some other similarly less-erotic location. However, she paid loving, cleansing care to each finger on his left hand, the palm, the back of his hand, his arm, his shoulder, his neck, his broad chest and then down the right arm until she reached the bandages for his injured hand. She carefully leaned him forward and washed his back and slowly dried it with the towel.

She leaned over and whispered in his left ear, "I liked it when you were my doctor on the island. Remember?"

He smiled and slowly nodded.

"You were hesitant about washing my back, coming too close. There was no need to be scared then. And I'm not now. I love doing this for you."

However, that heart rate monitor was going to get tricky now. She pulled down the blanket that had been pulled up to his waist. Keeping her gaze on his green eyes, her hand slowly inched up his leg, underneath the hem of his hospital gown.

Jack's eyes got wide. "Jennifer?" _How far was she going to take this?_ he wondered.

"Shhhh," she soothed. "Nurse Jennifer knows best."

When Nurse Jennifer reached her intended target, Jack's heart rate nearly instantaneously doubled. The monitor had been amusing before, communicating his increasing excitement. But Jack had enough of the infernal device beep-beeping at him and he ripped the electrical leads off his chest and flung them on the ground. When the device screeched from flat-lining, he reached over and turned it off.

Once more his concentration returned to Jennifer. As Jack tightly gripped the mattress with his left hand, he managed to say between shock waves of overwhelming sensations, "Jennifer, that's a great...job."

She wickedly grinned at his wordplay. He propped himself up on his elbows wishing to see her better. Jennifer wanted to do this, wanted to watch his enjoyment. Jack, besides enjoying the obvious pleasures of her attentions, wanted to watch her too.

Jennifer and Jack were alone in this room. There were no ghosts. For the first time, there was no Lawrence. There was no specter of Lawrence hovering around them, influencing her, affecting her. It was only the two of them. And Jack loved watching her in her cute candy striper getup while she explored him because he knew that she was free.


	21. Chapter 21

Steve needed to inform Jack of the developments at the police station. Whatever Jack was wanting to say to Lawrence, it needed to be soon somehow. He tried to go into Jack's room, but it was locked. He grew immediately concerned that Lawrence had launched a second strike against his brother.

"Nurse! Nurse!" Steve called. "Why is this door locked? I want to see Jack Deveraux now."

The nurse shook her head, "You can't. He's indisposed."

Now Steve was really growing concerned and flashed his badge, "What do you mean I can't? He's my brother. If the person who injured him is trying to hurt him again then I need to stop it NOW."

The nurse knew she could no longer be vague, "Your brother is fine. His fiancée is in there…" the nurse struggled for the explanation that wasn't too explicit, "helping him get cleaned up."

Steve pointed at the door, "Jennifer's in there?" Steve audibly exhaled, feeling palpable relief and collapsed in a chair.

Steve read the subtext of the nurse's statement. _Jennifer's giving him a sponge bath._ _Happy Jack indeed._ The dichotomy between his fears of what had happened to his little brother and what was actually happening made him laugh. Steve stayed seated for a while, patiently waiting.

When he saw the handle turning on the door, he stood up. Jennifer walked out, trying to appear calm and inconspicuous. Of course Steve noticed the candy striper outfit and successfully suppressed a smile.

"Steve," she acknowledged him as she passed by.

"Jennifer," he answered back.

Neither would comment on the obvious.

When Steve entered the room, the privacy curtain was still pulled in front of the door so he couldn't see his brother yet. The distinctive pungent smell still lingered in the room, but his message couldn't wait any longer. Steve cleared his throat loudly as Jack's hearing wasn't good yet in order to announce his arrival.

Jack was still reveling in Jennifer's astonishing surprise and the memory of her wearing that candy striper outfit. He remembered his long-ago fantasy of Jennifer gripping his tie, taking charge, and seducing him in the Spectator office. He just barely heard someone clearing his throat and knew instantly it was his brother. He quickly schooled his face to a more placid calm expression—he was, after all, raised to be the perfect politician.

Steve rounded the curtain and got straight to the point, "Lawrence got beat up last night. Not enough to land him here in the hospital though."

"Who did it?" Jack asked. "I mean, Harper pretended once that he got beat up in jail to get sympathy from me. It worked too, the bastard."

"It happened. A few cops heard that he's the one who likely sent a bomb to the daughter of a cop and the niece of their captain and wanted a little payback. The upshot is that he's being transferred to Statesville next Monday so that he's away from the local cops. You said you've got something that only you can say or do to the guy. Well, whatever it is, it needs to be within the next five days. Is that possible?"

Jack hadn't thought about getting out of the hospital that early. He would have to manage though—if only to go the police station and then back here.

"Definitely. What I have to say to Alamain hopefully will end this for good."

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The next morning, Jennifer returned to the hospital after a quick trip home to the penthouse (she didn't consider the loft home anymore) for a quick shower and change. While she had been gone, she saw the doctors had removed several of Jack's restrictions during their morning rounds.

Jack had recovered to the point where he no longer had the heart rate monitor or was attached to any other machines and he no longer had to wear the hospital gown, but could instead wear his own paisley silk pajamas. She smiled because she knew he was far more comfortable and was glad she had brought them to the hospital on the first night.

Jennifer then blushed when she remembered her incredibly forward actions the day before when he was still wearing the hospital gown. It was quite daring of her to do something like that under any circumstances but especially with the memories she was still fighting against now. However, it was nowhere near as bad as it had been. Her "job" had been exhilarating too. She knew some day soon that she would feel ready to make love to Jack again and they would be completely a couple once more.

The night before when she returned to Jack's hospital room changed back into her normal clothes, she was feeling shy and reticent again and reddened when she saw Jack. Jack, reading the situation, hadn't commented on her candy striping performance, and they spent another peaceful night squeezed together on the twin bed. That was, until the nurses switched at shift change and ordered Jennifer out of the hospital bed. She slept the rest of the night in a chair, close at hand so she could hear Jack breathing and hear the comforting metronome of the heart monitor.

When Jennifer returned from the penthouse, she brought back a tape player with her and set it down on the overbed table before greeting Jack with a kiss on his cheek.

Jennifer put her hand on his forehead, like she was a mom checking her little child for fever, "How are you feeling?"

Jack looked her up and down; she was wearing jeans and a sweater but she was exceptionally desirable regardless of what she wore. "I can't quite hear so well. Come closer." He beckoned her with his forefinger, but his eyes were sparkling.

Jennifer moved in close to his left ear; her breath tickling the tiny hairs on his ear and neck. "How are you feeling?" she repeated, her voice betraying her intense concern.

Jack turned sideways and kissed her lips. He was tempted to reach up and encircle her with his left hand, but he was worried that sudden movement would activate her fight, flight or freeze response, so he kept it as a simple kiss. Jennifer was going to set the pace for them. Not him. He would presume nothing.

The kiss, though simple, was warm. It was fulfilling and reinvigorated his desire to get well and go home. It was Jennifer's very special medicine for him and he prescribed himself a lifetime supply of her kisses.

"How are you feeling?" she asked for a third time.

Jack picked up her hand and held it in his; he needed to touch her, needed her in close proximity to him. "Much better now that you're here. Honestly, I'm good. I love hearing your voice. I missed it those few days I couldn't."

"Are you feeling well enough to stand up for a few minutes?" Jennifer asked. She wanted to share something with him, but it could wait.

Jennifer had a plan, Jack could tell. "Sure, it was my hand that got injured. Not my feet," he answered.

Jennifer dimmed the lights in the room and helped Jack swing his feet over so they dangled off the bed. She put on his slippers and helped him to his feet. He had never felt their height difference so acutely as now. There wasn't anything physically preventing him from standing up. The major effects of his concussion had worn off and there really was no longer any risk of dizziness. He felt slightly weak from spending the last several days in bed. But adrenalin, determination, and Jennifer's strong arms kept him upright.

She encircled him with her arms at his waist. "I want to dance with you. Nothing complicated like a tango, just a slow dance, with you holding on to me. Consider it therapy to help get you back on your feet. Okay?"

Jack could deny her nothing. Of course, he nodded. "You take such good care of me."

She reached over and switched on the tape player. The instrumental version of _When I Fall in Love_ started playing. Jack immediately recognized it as the song from when he had asked her to dance 'with her ex-boss', the night she got engaged to Emilio. It was also the song that was playing when they met by chance at the Cheating Heart soon after he learned about the rape. She had run out of the Heart that day and they didn't have their dance.

It wasn't too late though.

The soulful and melancholy saxophone too perfectly reminded them how close they came to disaster, how close they came to losing these moments forever.

She held his left hand with her right hand and put her other hand around his waist—to help support him and to keep his injured hand free. Jennifer slightly, very delicately, with feather-light pressure, laid her head against Jack's chest. Once settled for a few moments, she looked up at him, "Is that okay? That's not too much?"

Jack shook his head no. He was in pain, but it wasn't too much—certainly not enough to deny themselves this song.

Jennifer breathed in his scent. He smelled like hospital soap and hospital cleansers. He didn't smell like himself, but still it was Jack. Undeniably, unmistakably, unassailably, uniquely Jack.

Her Jack. Her one-and-only Jack. Jack's large hands, Jack's height above her, Jack's broad chest.

The memory of Jack's lips from his recent kiss still lingered on her lips. Goodness gracious, she loved this man. She wanted him to always know. Always feel confident in her and in them. She knew his pride and his self-confidence had taken quite the beating over the last few years and she wanted him to never doubt her. Not ever again.

When the music reached the second verse, Jack remembered the lyrics and he spoke the words softly. He didn't feel comfortable singing them:

 _"When I give my heart_

 _It will be completely_

 _Or I'll never give my heart…"_

Jack didn't sing the rest of the verse: _And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too is when I fall in love with you._ Those lyrics just didn't apply to him. Because Jack fell in love with Jennifer long, long before the moment that he knew she loved him back. She held his heart in her hands and he felt lucky and blessed that she wanted him too and that he did not love in vain.

The music transported them both. They knew no time or place.

It was 10:16 a.m. on a Wednesday morning in a hospital room, decorated with industrial cotton curtains and stainless steel bedpans—probably one of the least romantic times of the week and least romantic places by any external standard. But Jennifer and Jack lived by their own rules. Time and place and the outside world just did not exist while their music played.

And Jack hoped that their timeless song would never end.

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Two days later, Jack was released from the hospital and went with Steve directly to the jail. From his hospital bed, using his phone, he had already made all the necessary arrangements for his talk with Alamain. He hoped that his plan would work. If not, he wasn't sure what more could be done to protect his family.

Steve had agreed to bend procedure and let Jack into the interview room to talk with Lawrence. Steve agreed only if he could watch and listen from the other side of the two-way glass and that Lawrence stayed hand-cuffed.

Lawrence shook his head in mock sympathy when Jack entered, "I heard about your unfortunate accident. It looks like we won't be fencing opponents again anytime soon—at least not with you fencing right-handed. That was such a nasty stroke of luck; I'm so relieved that you're okay Jasper."

Despite his words, Lawrence's tone was unmistakable. He had a few bruises from where the officers roughed him up, but certainly nothing like he had deserved..

"Sarcasm?" Now Jack truly felt livid. "That's what this entire farce has been reduced to? Your little plan to get the Von Lesuchner fortune and all the ensuing retaliation, it was all just an excuse for you to feel important—because you had some self—important mission to increase your wealth." Jack replied, partially using strategy and partially because he meant it. "How pathetic is that?" All this injury, destruction, and interrupted lives just so some rich man could increase his bank account by some modest percentage and coddle his need for overwrought and diabolical theater.

Lawrence's eyes were gleaming, probably gloating that Jack may have pre-empted his attack, but got hurt badly in the process.

Jack rolled his eyes; Lawrence was such a smug coward, "Ever since I learned the full truth from Jennifer, I've thought a lot about you. About how you became twisted into your current incarnation, about how similar we might be, about how you could turn out to be so despicable when your father Leopold was so kind and loving."

Lawrence appeared unaffected by Jack's words, which is what Jack expected. Jack then grabbed the chair on the opposite side of the table, spun it around and straddled it.

Lawrence took his opportunity, "Come now Jasper, let's discuss that videotape. I know you've seen it. Haven't you?"

Jack suddenly went very still. He knew if he so much as twitched a muscle, he'd go over that table and throttle the guy.

"You have," Lawrence continued goading him. The videotape was in evidence now; there was no use denying it. "Want to compare notes about Jennifer?"

Jack stayed silent, waging his internal battle to keep his cool. He had an agenda and needed to keep it.

When Jack didn't give a response, Lawrence went on, "No? Well, how about I talk about Jennifer if you talk about Kayla?" Lawrence then, quite pointedly, looked at the two-way glass, knowing that Steve was on the other side.

Jack finally found his voice, "You know that is not why I came here today. I have no interest in inflicting flesh wounds or shallow knife cuts. If you wish for a fight to the death, that can be arranged." His tone was cold and steely.

In college, Jack and his fraternity brothers had often traveled down to Atlantic City. Poker was their favorite—it was just a game for rich young boys to play. Schooled in politics, Jack had been very good. Now Jack had the highest stakes hand of his life.

Jack took a vial out of his suit coat pocket, set it on the table and silently slid it across the table to Lawrence's side.

Lawrence glanced at it, "That's a vial of blood. Are you intending some cheap theatrical trick about spilling blood?"

"No," Jack replied coldly and evenly, angling his left ear towards him to make sure that he heard every word properly. "That's yours to keep. A gift to repay the one you sent to Stephanie's birthday party."

Lawrence shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about. I heard about that unfortunate incident and that your thankful foresight prevented a tragedy. I was so…relieved…to hear that precious little girl was unharmed." His tone was mockingly innocent.

Jack leaned forward, measuring him, hoping to convey the seriousness of this visit. The mocking and the games needed to end. "You should…make it your mission…to guarantee that little girl remains unharmed. You should make it your mission to guarantee that nothing happens to anyone from the Horton, Von Leuschner, Brady, or Johnson families. Or anyone in Salem or beyond Salem for that matter."

"And why would I adopt such a mission for myself?" Lawrence asked, incredulously, still mockingly.

"To guarantee that more of _that_ blood is not spilled," Jack indicated the vial resting just beyond Lawrence's fingertips.

"Okay, you obviously have an agenda here. Whose blood is this?"

"Your son's." Jack said coldly, his gaze never leaving Lawrence's face.

Lawrence blinked several times, not understanding. "Is this some cheap parlour trick like your manufactured marriage certificate to Jennifer?"

Jack kept his voice a monotone; he studiously removed all emotion. "That vial is yours to keep, you vile bastard. Have it tested. You'll get your paternity certified."

Lawrence was struggling through the connotations, trying to determine what information that Jack could possess. There was one most likely possibility. "Is Jennifer pregnant?"

Jack hadn't expected that question; it threw him temporarily, but he quickly recovered. Jack would not disclose anything about Jennifer to this man. "That is a vial of blood from your son, now living. Test it. It's yours. You'll verify what I'm telling you today. I can access your son. I can reach him anytime—for good or for ill. And he will continue under my…protection as long as everyone that I care about remains under your…protection as well."

Lawrence brought one of his hands up to his lips; his other handcuffed hand followed along. He was studying Jack, determining out the possibilities. "So you're presuming to foist a little boy, a baby boy upon me?"

Jack recognized Lawrence was fishing for information. Jack would provide no clues to his son's age or identity and had made sure that Nicky's blood provided none either—like diabetes or some other medical condition that would aid in Lawrence's search. The boy could remain safely anonymous for a long time to come. Jack had a protein added to the blood sample that slightly altered the X chromosome to hide the identity of the mother and keep her anonymous as well. Lawrence could try to determine the mother, but he would fail every time. The Y chromosome, needed to verify paternity, remained unaltered.

Jack ignored the question, "I would never risk the life of someone so young and innocent; for example, I would never send a bomb to a child's first birthday party. However, if compelled to act, I will. If you have learned anything about my past or my parentage, then you know the havoc that I am capable of bringing. I will do whatever is necessary to secure the safety of those most dear to me."

Lawrence sneered, "You're a fool Jasper if you think I will ever be checkmated."

Jack was frustrated; he was trying to reach out to Lawrence, _despite everything,_ and the man would not be swayed. "I am hoping, instead, for a stalemate. I sincerely hope, _for all our sakes_ , that your son's blood is not spilled. It will be spilled though; his blood will be on your hands, if necessary. I can promise you that." Jack recalled an analogy that he hoped would be effective in this negotiation. "The USA and the USSR managed to emerge from the Cold War, relatively unscathed, because of the potential for mutually assured destruction that hung over both countries. You don't know your son, but hopefully, the simple fact that he does exist is sufficient enough for you to guarantee that he keeps breathing. I hope that your son's life is adequate motivation for you to avoid any further attempts at bloodshed."

Jack held Lawrence's gaze for a long moment, making sure he drove home his deadly certain point before continuing to the second half of his message.

"I hope we are clear on that point," Jack enunciated. "I know you have done your homework on me and my past. You know that I was raised by a psychotic father. I would not foist such a fate on anyone. That is why I choose that your son and his identity will remain hidden from you as long as it is within my power to accomplish that. I truly wish to protect the boy from harm—and I hope you will assist me on that point by _protecting_ my family in return. And I wish to protect him from you…as long as that is necessary."

Lawrence was still convinced that Jack was trying to scam him about a son that he knew nothing about, but that certainty was waning. "You should not be fooled to think you've won you—."

"I was you," Jack interrupted and leaned forward, "Or some close facsimile of you. The arrogant, self-absorbed, unfeeling, _empty_ bastard that you now are. I won't ask you how you got to be that way—I'm not your shrink. But I do know that there is a better way. Despite everything that you've done—the boat explosion, the kidnappings,…the wedding day…, the bomb at the birthday party—you can still turn your whole life around. No one has died. You are not beyond redemption…yet."

Jack remembered his dream when he had tortured Lawrence and dreamt that Lawrence's face had become his own. For his own sake, he needed to tread carefully, "Seeing you, knowing how you hurt so many people I care about, I could feel that dark evil part of me become resurrected. I don't like it; but don't for one solitary second be fooled that I am tamed. I will _never_ be tamed. You cross me again and you will know my wrath." Jack paused and took a long breath, "However, I hope that won't be necessary."

Jack got up and turned around to face the two-way mirror knowing that Steve was listening on the other side. "A while ago, I realized I had such an empty and meaningless life and I worked hard to turn my life around. It wasn't easy and for a long time, no one believed that I was sincere. But my life is a thousand times better now than it was when I was trying to destroy people's lives and allowing my head and heart to be consumed by anger. If you work toward redemption, towards earning forgiveness against those that you have wronged, then you might just have a chance to make your life worth something. It can be done; I'm living proof of that."

Lawrence rolled his eyes.

Jack smiled, "Go on. Do that. Be smug. Smile. Smirk. Scoff. Sneer. Snarl. It's nothing I haven't done a thousand times back when I was as pathetic as you are now. There is a better way though. Seek atonement. Seek humility. Seek forgiveness. Go down that path and do it sincerely…"

The next words came out slowly; they seemed like a betrayal of Jennifer, but also a necessary step for his own soul.

"…and I will forgive you…"

Jack glanced back to the two-way mirror, "…as others forgave me."

Those words were difficult to speak; he doubted that Lawrence or Steve would ever know what it truly cost him to make that offer. Knowing everything that Lawrence had done, knowing everything that Jack himself was and what he had done.

Before today, he thought it had been difficult to ask for forgiveness. That had been his most difficult task of his life. Offering it, _potentially_ , to someone so wholly unworthy was a thousand times worse. And Jack realized at last what it had cost his brother to offer his kidney and to play nice after the transplant when Jack's body threatened to reject it.

Jack turned back to Lawrence, gauging him, measuring him, and doubting that his offer would ever truly find solid ground. "I can help you obtain your second chance. If you prove yourself as a better man, then I will reveal to you the identity and whereabouts of your son."

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Jack exited from the interview room and stood in the hallway, his back up against the wall, his head angled up the ceiling. He was breathing hard and his heart was racing. He bit hard on his lip, super powerfully hard to stop himself from crying and his lip started to bleed. He stayed like that for what seemed like a long time, but he knew it couldn't have been too long. Steve came out into the hallway, took one look at the state of his brother and captured him in a long hug.

"The things that bastard drives people to say, drives them to do," Jack said as Steve was holding onto him tightly.

Steve pulled him out of the corridor and into the observation room; he pulled down the shade over the two-way mirror so that they couldn't see Lawrence in the interview room. Jack spotted him for a second, still hand-cuffed and fingering the vial of blood.

Steve pushed down on Jack's shoulders so that they were at the same height and Steve could look directly into Jack's eyes. "Are you okay?"

Jack shook his head. "One minute, I'm threatening to kill his son, the next I'm offering to forgive him. No I'm not okay."

Steve noticed Jack's lip was bleeding from when he bit it and offered him a tissue. Jack turned him down and pulled out one of his monogrammed handkerchiefs from his pocket. Steve decided for Jack's birthday that he'd get him a handkerchief monogrammed with BJHJDJ as a joke (for Billy Jack Happy Jack Deveraux Johnson), but shook off the diversion and brought his head back to reality.

Steve needed to know the truth about Jack's story, "Is it true? Do you know about a son of Lawrence that he doesn't?"

Jack nodded. "And I can't tell him the kid's identity. He doesn't deserve to know and no kid deserves a father like that. But still, keeping this a secret is horrible, almost unforgiveable."

Steve was confused, "Why?"

Jack revealed his frustrations, "Because the boy's mother doesn't know about him either. She thinks he died at birth. If I tell her, then Lawrence will be sure to know as well."

"Then stay silent for now," Steve advised, still cupping his brother's face in his hands. "Until we know better what trajectory Lawrence will take or how long he'll be locked away."

"There's a problem with that too. If Jennifer ever learns that I knew the truth and stayed silent, she probably won't forgive me."

"Why? Wouldn't Jennifer understand?" Realization dawned on Steve's face. "Carly?" Jennifer's best friend.

Jack nodded.

Steve was astounded. His brother was one hell of an investigative reporter to have learned something like that.

Steve hugged Jack once more and then stepped back to look at Jack fully. "Worry about that later. I'll stick up for you if it's ever needed. But it won't be. Jennifer knows you and knows your heart." Steve paused for a moment. "Everything you said today was to protect my family, to protect everyone, to protect my daughter. I won't _ever_ forget that."

Jack shook his head, "No. Don't thank me. I'm sorry it came to that."

"I really admire what you did today. That took a lot of guts and strength to face him and face his demons. I'm proud of you, baby brother. I mean Jack. You certainly aren't my _baby_ brother anymore. I know now that if anyone can ever reach him, it'll be you."

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It was Jack's second day back at work and nearing lunchtime. He was able to focus better at work because his hearing wasn't back at 100% so he wasn't quite as distracted from the working chaos that happened everyday outside his door as his reporters were in a mad rush to put out a daily newspaper.

So Jack was surprised when he looked up and Kayla had come in and was standing on the other side of his desk. He immediately thought of the last time she came to his office—her monologue about the effects the rape had on her. She had stayed as far from him as possible on that day, clutching the doorknob and ready to escape from his sight. Today seemed different though.

Jack stood up immediately. "Kayla, hello. Is everything okay?" Those words rushed out—ever since the birthday party, that had been Jack's overwhelming worry and that Lawrence would try once more with retaliation.

Kayla smiled and that put Jack at ease. There was nothing wrong in the present and she wouldn't be revisiting the past. "Yes. I was hoping to take you out to lunch."

 _Lunch?_

Jack was incredibly flattered. This offer was unprecedented. "Umm, sure! Is Steve joining us?" Kayla shook her head. "Jo?" Kayla shook her head. "Jennifer?" Kayla shook her head. "Stephanie? Caroline?" Kayla shook her head. Now Jack was really straining for lunch companions. "Bo?" Kayla shook her head. "Emily?"

Now Kayla looked confused. "Who?"

"Your cat."

Kayla smiled at that last suggestion, "No, just you and me. Is that okay?"

"No buffer?" Jack asked. "No neutral third party to help through our inevitable awkward silences?"

Kayla laughed. "How about no awkward silences?"

"O-kaaaay," Jack agreed, drawing out the word. "Stranger things have happened. Steve is a cop now, for example." Jack gave her a measured look, "You sure about lunch?"

Kayla grabbed his coat off the rack and held open the door, "Hey, you saved the lives of my daughter, my mother, my brothers, my husband, my friends, oh, and mine. I think that rates a soup and sandwich at The Sand Dollar. Agree?"

Jack circled round the desk and took his coat from her and slid it on. "Can I get a slice of pie too?"

"Sure."

"A la mode?"

Kayla looked at him sideways with the faintest hint of playfulness, "Don't push your luck."

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So while hearing the specials and placing their order with the waitress, Jack had compiled a list of polite questions and potential conversation topics to avoid any dreaded awkward silence. He was still amazed that she had invited him. It felt wonderful and special—definitely more special than the Sand Dollar's Specials. When Kayla had talked with him in the hospital, Jack assumed that their conversation would remain within the hospital walls—much like the gains in their relationship when Steve had been injured that simply could not be sustained when Steve had gotten better and had been released. For Kayla to offer lunch, to keep that progress after he was released from the hospital, it was just beyond any and all expectations.

"So did Stephanie get to open her birthday presents?" Jack asked.

"Yes, some, it was too much to open all at once anyway. At her age, it doesn't really make a difference. She liked your present—one wrapped box inside another inside another—she liked playing with all the wrapping paper and boxes.

Jack tapped his temple, "Clever and cheap."

Kayla broached another subject, "How are you feeling?"

Jack gave her the same answer he gave his mother. "Fine. Hard to type, but I'm left-handed so not too big a deal. And now I have a great excuse to not listen to people and talk loudly at them. So that's always good."

Kayla laughed, "I'm glad. I'm really glad to hear that," Kayla paused debating whether to share her news with him, "Y'know, I'm studying for my MCAT's—."

His eyes perked up, "You're going to medical school?" Jack asked, excited and proud for her.

"Planning on it, part-time, around Stephanie of course. Have to pass the MCATs first and get accepted into Salem University Medical School." Kayla had been wary of admitting her plans. Wary of telling anyone really, but Jack was Ivy League educated and had grown up around hypereducated people in Washington D.C.

"That's wonderful! With all your practical experience, you should sail through. And with the stuff that always seems to happen, it would be nice to have a doctor in the family. I'm really proud of you, Dr. Johnson."

Kayla found it tough to accept the compliment, "Well, I haven't done anything yet."

"Hey, I'll turn my head and cough for you anytime," Jack said and then sucked in his breath, and instantly regretted saying that. He winced; Jack couldn't believe what he just implied and with Kayla of all people. He was about to apologize, but Kayla turned her wide-eyed shock into a laugh.

"Wow. I did not just say that. That was a dumb joke," Jack did say; he was going to stop feeling like he needed to apologize to her all the time. "I'm known for my dumb jokes." Among other things, he thought to himself.

Kayla waved it off. She felt tranquil with Jack for the first time in a long, long while and was surprised at how much she was enjoying this lunch with him.

At that moment their food arrived and Jack sat there silent for a moment, still astounded that this relaxed lunch had ever been possible. Up until an hour ago, he would have considered it impossible. Impossible. Jack folded the word over his tongue numerous times hoping to fold it into oblivion. With Jennifer, with Steve, with Jo, and now with Kayla he was learning that with time, love, and patience, nothing is impossible.


	22. Chapter 22

Song for this chapter: All I Have by Beth Nielsen Chapman (and theme song for Jack and Jennifer)

When Jack arrived home that night, he saw that the penthouse had undergone a startling and unsettling transformation. Jennifer had redecorated. Not that he minded that she had redecorated. He figured she would. This was her home too and her name would be on the lease also after they were married. However, he never anticipated anything like _this_!

Ferns were everywhere. The sofa, chairs and end tables were pushed up against the wall. Instead, the central area was bare except for the plants and she had put slate tiling on the floor covering up the carpet. Little plastic flamingoes sat close to the balcony. Jack wandered into the center and turned around slowly, still in disbelief that Jennifer actually liked this kitschy nightmare.

Then he saw it.

He saw the television playing a videotape of a roaring fire.

Jack looked around with new eyes. This was the island. She had recreated the island. He looked back down at the slate tiling. He'd never forget the uncomfortableness of laying on the rocky ground in the cave. But there were a lot of other things in that cave he'd never forget either.

He didn't remember flamingoes though. That was new…and amusing.

 _Why did she do this?_

Jennifer came from kitchen carrying two drinks with little umbrellas. She was still dressed in her work clothes. "Hi honey, glad you're home. How was your day?"

Jack thought about his unexpected lunch with Kayla and the odd surroundings he came home to. "Surprising. You?"

"Sore," was Jennifer's ambiguous reply. "Have a drink," she handed over one of the fake pineapples with the little paper umbrella.

"Sore?" Jack was confused.

"I was filming a story about kick-boxing as a new exercise trend." Jennifer saw Jack roll his eyes, "I know it's TV news. It's what we do."

Jack smiled, "It's fine. But anytime you want to be under me again…"

Jennifer pretended to not hear the innuendo. "Well, I had to demonstrate the kickboxing moves and got a nice strong kick to my side, here." She pointed at her torso. "But anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Disoriented. I'm not sure where I am," Jack finally addressed the bizarre décor.

"Really? You don't recognize it? You're here. I'm here. The island is here," Jennifer replied, opening her arms and spun around once.

Jack had his suspicions, but needed to hear the words. "Why is the island here?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

Jack shook his head. He knew Jennifer felt safe there and wonderful there. Their time together on that island meant as much to her as it did to him.

Jack shook his head, "No. That's where I truly allowed you to feel secure in us, in my feelings, in me. I'd been pushing you away and hurting you for months. There, I stopped."

Jennifer took his hand, "You stopped and we started."

Jennifer wanted to say, _And tonight we start again_. However, she didn't want to push him or pressure him but she still wanted to let him know that she was absolutely willing. She had debated about just putting a bow on her diaphragm and giving it to him as a present, but that was way too corny, even for them. Besides, she figured that after Lawrence's gift box that Jack didn't want to see anything in wrapping paper for a while.

Jennifer had been inching herself along for weeks. Every night she shared a bed with Jack, she had wanted to be with him. At first, she wanted to excise the memories of Lawrence, to replace them with far better memories—memories and experiences of _her_ choosing. But she had stayed silent.

Over the weeks, it became less and less about removing Lawrence and replacing those memories because she was realizing that Lawrence's influence and importance was waning.

In the hospital, during those interminable hours that Jack was in surgery, Jennifer knew that she didn't want to waste any more time—she didn't want to lose anymore opportunities. And she knew that the act of rape was nothing like sex and nothing like making love. She should stop mixing them in her head. And she really shouldn't be scared that the awful feelings of violation would be resurrected.

She just wanted to be with Jack. They were close; closer than they had ever been. Jack had really opened up and been honest with her. Had allowed her fully into his life and into the most hidden recesses of his heart. He had asked her to marry him. He had unfailingly, unconditionally stood by her since he learned about the rape and even before when he didn't understand why she was pulling away. She knew these past months had been damn, damn hard for him, but he had conquered that earlier inclination to run and shield himself off from hurt that had plagued him a year ago.

He had saved her life—in every way that a person can be saved. When she was mentally under Lawrence's influence at the villa, he declared to everyone that she didn't love Lawrence, she loved him, she loved Jack! He had broken those chains that had been imprisoning her just like he gave her credit for breaking his chains in the Allegory of the Cave.

He was her hero—her real, honest-to-goodness hero—and the only person she wanted by her side for the rest of her life. She had waited for him up until last summer and he had been waiting for her since last fall. She wanted all of the waiting to stop and for their life together to begin once more.

She wanted to play this slow; she really was in no rush. But she knew what she wanted.

"Like I was saying, I'm feeling sore. Can you help me with this?" she asked playfully indicating her silk button-down shirt.

Jack wanted to point out that with his injured right hand, that he probably wasn't the best person to ask, but she knew about his hand and recognized that she probably had some ulterior motive for asking. Again, he could deny her nothing.

He gingerly helped unbutton the blouse using mostly his left hand for slipping out the buttons. Jennifer shrugged off the shirt and when Jack saw the camisole that had been underneath, he understood everything that she was trying to do this evening. It was the same camisole, or one that looked just like it, as the one she was wearing on the island. The one he was now sure she would ask him to help take off next.

Considering the circumstances, Jack was reticent about continuing. He had just gotten out of the hospital and didn't want Jennifer to have any regrets. "I know you were scared because of the explosion, but you don't owe me anything—certainly not this."

Jennifer knew it was time to stop playacting about being sore and using that pretense to help the evening along. She didn't need to mimic how they were on the island. This night was going to be wonderful.

He wasn't going to wait for her to ask about the camisole. "Jennifer, are you sure?"

Jennifer took his hands into her own. "I am sure. I know you won't hurt me. I've wanted this for so long. I truly have. I haven't been with you in so many months. I don't want to waste any more time. I don't want any more memories or experiences stolen from us."

Jennifer reached for the remote control for Jack's new Compact Disc player and hit the play button and put her chosen song on the auto-repeat option.

 _You can say you love me and I'll believe that's true_ _  
 _Trusting you is easy 'cause I believe in you__

"Dance with me?" Jennifer asked. She held her hands aloft, inviting him into them.

Jack wanted to. He didn't want to waste anymore time either. God knows he wasted enough time last spring and last fall dealing with his issues. He had conquered many of his demons and his fears. He had been brave and courageous at the birthday party. He had been there for his family when it really counted. He had confronted Lawrence and he knew in his gut that his threats were sufficient to neutralize him. Lawrence would submit to the stalemate and they wouldn't need to spend the rest of their lives worried about the next retaliation attempt. He didn't know if Lawrence would ever repent or atone for all of the harm, but that was irrelevant. Jack had made the offer of forgiveness. Considering how Jack felt about Lawrence when he learned the truth, his dream about exacting revenge, and his certainty that Alamain would be forever unforgiven, Jack knew he had come far to deal with his resurrected demons. They would not destroy him. They had reawakened, but Jack had fought hard against them for Jennifer's sake and they were slumbering once more.

After everything that had happened, Jack finally did feel worthy now. With his offer to Lawrence, he had put his demons to rest and felt more honorable. Honor was a curious sensation-humbling and ennobling.

 _There is nothing I would miss_ _  
 _As long as we're in love like this__

Jack loved this woman—loved her with his whole being. He went into her waiting arms. Jennifer and Jack regarded each other with steady unflinching gazes. Softly he laid his hand along the angle of her cheek and jaw, tilting her face gently upwards, and leaned down to claim her mouth once again with a tender and unhurried kiss. Jennifer was the one who finally broke away, and they had looked into each other's eyes for a long, shared, unspeaking moment.

 _All I have is all I need_ _  
 _And it all comes down to you and me__

Jennifer's hands migrated to Jack's tie. She slowly loosened it until it was freed. When her hands moved next to his shirt buttons, Jack put his left hand over hers. "Jennifer…" he began.

"I love you," she simply responded and continued to a lower button.

"Jennifer…" Jack resisted. He had not expected this sudden turn. He told himself he needed introspection and reflection.

"I love you," she repeated.

"You know…You know I love you." His voice nearly broke with the words.

Insistently, she freed him from the shirt, only stumbling for a few brief seconds with his buttoned cuffs. His eyes showed that he was still shy and hesitant, but willing to get swept away. Then Jack saw her eyes, saw the openness and freedom, and he became undone. He let down his guard, his barriers. Jennifer was beautiful and desirable and intoxicating and he wanted her. He wanted her desperately, but he had constructed necessary walls around those feelings.

Throughout this whole experience during these many months, he had learned that sometimes walls are necessary structures, but they should be temporary. Jack and Steve had torn down walls that had kept them from discussing the painful and forbidden past. They had needed those walls in the past as they tentatively formed a trusting brotherhood, but the usefulness of those walls had long since expired. Jack and Kayla had desperately needed walls too, but through time and circumstances they had disassembled several of their barriers and they weren't so painfully awkward now.

Jack didn't realize when he quoted Shakespeare during his proposal about the 'gulf that between us lies: _With love's light wings did I o'erprch these walls_ ' that it would be so appropriate for their predicament. He didn't truly know about the 'gulf' or the 'walls' at the time. But once he did learn, then Jack and Jennifer slowly, but together, worked to tear down those walls that divided them, separated them, kept them emotionally or physically apart.

He loved that Jennifer was wanting to remove the last barrier that existed between them. She wanted it now. Tonight. That was obvious. This was her choice.

 _How far away this world becomes_ _  
 _In the harbor of each others arms__

Suddenly she was locked in his arms and Jack was kissing her. This time she felt not only his warm lips but his tongue was parting her lips and quickly passing the barrier of her teeth, filling her mouth- a kiss no longer warm and gentle and lingering like before but white-hot and urgent. Then abruptly he broke away, shoulders heaving as he struggled to control his breathing and regain mastery of himself.

"I'm sorry." Jack hadn't kissed her like that since that disastrous day in the cabin—the kiss that precipitated her slapping him. An association he did not wish to remember.

 _I feel like I've known you forever and ever_ _  
 _Baby that's how close we are__

Jennifer had unshakeable confidence in Jack's judgment and his integrity, but she recognized, also, that he was a man of complex emotions and fierce passions, a man capable of dark, brooding melancholy. She was aware too, despite their closeness and their profound connection, there remained so many unspoken thoughts and so many past hurts that each had nursed alone. They needed to break that pattern for good. They needed to learn to face challenges together instead of each retreating into their own inner consciousness. However, Jennifer knew now that there was no chasm they could not bridge, no impediment they could not surpass, and no obstacle that they could not sidestep.

 _Right here with you is where my life has come together_ _  
 _And where love has filled my heart_  
 _You know I'd go anywhere, as long as I have you to care__

Jennifer raised Jack's left hand in both of hers, bringing it to her lips and pressing her mouth against his palm. Then, holding his hand still she slowly turned so that her lips crept along his fingers until she reached his fingertips. She kissed them lightly, and then, parting her lips, she slowly dipped two of his fingertips into her mouth, flicking her tongue, touching and tasting- before taking his long fingers deeper into her mouth, her tongue sliding along their length, and licking the webbed portion between them. Finally, she pulled back a little and very gently closed her teeth around his fingertips in the softest of bites.

"Take care," he whispered, breathing hotly onto her neck.

A low, guttural groan escaped from deep in his throat and then he cupped Jennifer's face between his two hands, raising it towards him. When their open, hungry mouths joined in the near darkness it was, for both of them, like coming home.

 _All I have is all I need_ _  
 _And it all comes down to you and me__

As the song looped through several times, they were content only with continuing to somewhat dance, with kissing, with exploring each other's mouths deeply, their tongues gliding together-each savoring the other's taste. Then, loosening his arms from around her shoulders, Jack slid his hands down her sides until he reached her hips, and then he pulled her close against him, letting her feel his heat, letting her know how much she was wanted. Her small hands, too, began their own tentative journey, taking an uncertain path down his broad back, touching each vertebra, trying to avoid the bandages that still remained, and relishing the feel of his hot skin.

 _How far away this world becomes_ _  
 _In the harbor of each others arms__

Jennifer backed up half a step and fingered the hem of her satiny pink camisole. She signaled to Jack that she wanted him to take it off of her.

"Jennifer, are you sure?" he asked once more.

"I'm sure of us. There's nothing to be afraid of." She took his hands, especially careful with his right hand and placed them on the hem of her garment.

"It's time," she repeated with a wry smile, remembering when she had said that to him and then later when he had repeated those words back to her. She figured it would be a phrase oft-repeated throughout their lives together—an assured way to break through barriers and to silence opposing arguments.

 _And with the love you bring_ _  
 _I never want for anything_  
 _I found what I've been searching for in you__

Jack knew that he would always do whatever Jennifer asked and that he would do anything for her. All he had was hers. And so he yielded.

He clasped the silky soft fabric and achingly slow, eased it up. Partially, he wanted to give her an opportunity to change her mind but also with his injured hand, the task was slow by necessity.

After several dozen heartbeats, he eased it off, freeing it from a few errant strands of her golden hair. The camisole was laying languidly in his right hand. Determinedly, he kept his gaze on her face and her eyes and did not allow his eyes to wander downwards.

Jennifer noticed this touching gesture and returned into his arms wanting to continue the dance. After another verse, Jack tossed the now-useless camisole aside. Their bodies pressed together as the music played on and on, Jennifer felt her heart rate had risen from trepidation, from being in such close proximity, from being felt so intimately. However as the song continued to play, it allowed Jennifer the time to relax, to enjoy, to slowly adapt to the ever-increasing temperature.

At length, Jack dipped her down, keeping his strong left hand firmly supporting her back. He finally allowed himself permission to look at her. His right hand traced along her neckline and slowly down the middle of her chest to her waist. When his strength was about to give out, only then did he pull her back up to vertical, liking the feel of her swishing skirt against his pant legs. Jennifer was breathing fast now and her hair flounced in a golden curtain over her shoulders.

 _All I have is all I need_ _  
 _And it all comes down to you and me__

Jack's hand lingered caressingly before he gave her a searing kiss. A faint, sighing moan escaped her lips. Suddenly he seized a handful of her skirt, balling and crushing it in his fist until his knuckles whitened. With his mouth pressed against his hand, he muttered through clenched teeth,

"Jennifer, do you know you are everything to me in this life?"

Jennifer gave a soft gasp as she felt his open mouth pressing against her nape, his breath hot upon her skin. He moved round to her side, planted small kisses below her ear and at the corner of her jaw. His mouth came down to seek hers, but instead she tilted her head back so that his lips met the tautly arched curve of her throat. Then his mouth moved to her collar-bone, and to the small hollow above, and she felt the heat of his tongue as it tasted the salt of the tight satin skin. Her fingers twined themselves in his hair, tugging him closer against her. He let go of her arms now, and his two hands spanned her midriff, his thumbs moving upwards, just grazing the lower curve of her breast.

 _How far away this world becomes_ _  
 _In the harbor of each others arms__

As his fingers touched her flesh, a tremor ran through Jennifer's body, which he felt travel along the whole length of her as she pressed against him. She gave a soft moan and closed her eyes tightly.

With every fiber of his being, every ounce of his will, he wanted to be gentle, to go slowly, to avoid hurting her, but even his iron self-control was defeated by the intoxicating beauty of her body, and the intensity with which he had longed for this moment. He felt her tense and stiffen.

Jack did not step back from her, but stayed where he was, his fingers lightly pushing back from her face a few dishevelled strands of her hair, damp with their mingled sweat. He gazed at her from so close that her features were softly blurred; he lowered his head to kiss her brow, her cheek, her throat.

She nodded and smiled. The tension she had from just a moment earlier melted away and Jack could feel her relax. Jack took that as assent. Then she caught her breath as she felt his hands moving to her waist, then to the silky fabric still covering her hips, caressing once more with what felt like renewed purpose.

Jack's hands returned to her hands and he pulled her towards the bedroom. They were at the threshold of the closed door, his back up against it. He stopped. He did not reach for the doorknob, he did not push through. With his eyes and a slight tilt of his head, he indicated the doorknob to Jennifer. If they were going into the bedroom, then it would have to be Jennifer to open the door.

 _All I have is all I need_ _  
 _And it all comes down to you and me__

She didn't hesitate when she understood what Jack wanted. Breathing fast from excitement, she reached past him and quickly opened the door. Jack had been leaning against it and he took a sudden step backwards with the door no longer closed for support. He pulled her along with him.

Jack needed to reassure her of the obvious, "If you change your mind at any second. If you want to slow down or stop…"

Jennifer silenced him with a kiss.

Jack pulled her down on the bed so that she was astride him.

 _How far away this world becomes_ _  
 _In the harbor of each others arms__

Three hours later, their breathing gradually grew more shallow, their pulses slowed, and Jack gently rolled her off of him, holding her yet in his arms and placing soft kisses on her arm, her shoulder, her cheek, her hair. As reason returned he was grateful for the cloaking darkness, for he believed he could not have met her eye just then.

Jennifer reached over to the nightstand and turned on a light. Jack immediately brought his hand to cover his eyes as though he needed time to adjust to the light. However, in the faint moonglow, Jennifer had seen the truth.

"Jack, are you crying?"

Jack was embarrassed and shy, but he did not bite his lip this time. He was no longer his father's son.

Jennifer reached up and with feather-light fingertips, brushed the moisture from his cheeks. She had never seen him cry before, but she did not know, could not know that this was the first time he had allowed himself to cry since his adoptive mother, Camille, had died when he was a little boy.

"They're happy tears. They don't count."

Jennifer wanted to ask if he was okay, but resisted that temptation knowing that he would offer whatever he was prepared to share.

Jack wanted to change the subject and he wanted to gauge her feelings, "Jennifer," he started slowly, "any regrets?"

Jennifer was laying her head on Jack's chest, then turned over to look at him when he said that. She wanted to jolt him out of his reflective, almost somber mood, "Yeah, I regret not doing it sooner," she replied with a flirtatious smile. "And I was wondering when can we do it again?"

That worked. It got him to smile. "You love me? Despite everything?"

Jennifer traced her finger along his jaw and kissed the underside of his chin, "I love all of you. _And in spite of nothing_."

Jack kissed the top of her hair.

"Are you okay truly?" Jennifer asked, growing concerned.

Jack nodded. "I am just amazed with the gifts that life has to offer and by the long and winding road we all must travel. Life is mysterious, complicated and sacred." Jack reached over and grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart, "This life, our lives, is all I will ever want."

J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J&J

The End.


End file.
